The Bravest Coward
by Lilies of Berlin
Summary: Feliciano Vargas is a young café owner while his brother Lovino is a headstrong gang member. After a tragic accident, Feliciano befriends the gang's leader and discovers the life and logic behind the seemingly savage fighters. Ships include GerIta with a side of Spamano, Lietpol, and subtle hints of RusAme. Human AU. Rated T for language, violence, and a little gore.
1. Prologue

**ALLEGIANCES**

 *****NOTE: As some of these characters do not have given human names, I have provided them with some for the sake of the story.**

 _ **SOLDATEN:**_

 **Leader:** Ludwig (no given last name) (Germany)

 **Second in Command:** Kiku Honda (Japan)

Antonio Carriedo (Spain)

Lovino Vargas (South Italy)

Feliciano Vargas (North Italy) (Trainee)

Roderich Edelstein (Austria)

Elizabeta Héderváry (Hungary)

Bella Martens (Belgium)

Abel Morgens (the Netherlands)

Luca Trausch (Luxembourg)

Feliks Lukasiewicz (Poland)

Heracles Karpusi (Greece)

Sadiq Adnan (Turkey)

 _ **HAWKS:**_

 **Leader:** Alfred Jones (America)

 **Second-in-Command:** Arthur Kirkland (Britain)

Matthew Williams (Canada)

Francis Bonnefoy (France)

Ivan Braginsky (Russia)

Natalya Arlovskaya (Belarus)

Katyusha Levchenko (Ukraine)

Wang Yao (China)

Im Yong Soo (South Korea)

Xiao Mei (Taiwan)

Wang Jia Long (Hong Kong)

Lien Chung (Vietnam)

Angelique Laroche (Seychelles)

Máximo Machado (Cuba)

Abelle Dubois (Monaco)

Christian Smith (Australia)

Oliver Thompson (New Zealand)

Meriptah Babafemi (Egypt)

Aakash Dhar (India)

Banyat Wattana (Thailand)

Kostas Papadakis (Cyprus)

Peter Kirkland (Sealand) (Trainee)

Mia Wilson (Wy) (Trainee)

Joshua Rhodes (Molossia) (Trainee)

 _ **VARGAR AV IS:**_

 **Leader:** Berwald Oxenstierna (Sweden)

 **Second-in-Command:** Vash Zwingli (Switzerland)

Erika Vogel (Liechtenstein)

Tino Väinämöinen (Finland)

Matthias Køhler (Denmark)

Lukas Bondevik (Norway)

Emil Steilsson (Iceland)

Raivis Galante (Latvia)

Toris Laurinaitis (Lithuania)

Eduard von Bock (Estonia)

Vladimir Popescu (Romania)

Filip Andonov (Bulgaria)

Aneta Beran (Czech Republic)

Radek Nagy (Slovakia)

xXxXx

Rain pounded down on the cement ground. A weak ray of moonlight peered through the gray clouds, smoky against the night sky. The newly formed puddles rippled as a man stomped through them, his eyes ablaze with hazel fire. His chocolate brown hair was plastered to his head from the rain, and his green jacket was equally soaked. However, this did not stop him. Lightning cracked overhead, creating an ominous feel as the man unsheathed a knife, gripping it tightly.

"Lovino!"

He turned at the sound of his name, only to see someone running towards him. His green eyes shone with panic as he sprinted toward his friend.

"Lovino," he repeated, catching his breath, "where are you going? And what's with the knife?"

"You know goddamn well what this is about! I'm sick and fucking tired of the Hawks' bullshit! So I'm going to settle this myself," Lovino explained, moving onward.

"And you expect to fight them alone?" The other man's voice clearly showed his shock.

"I'm not going to _fight_ them, Antonio," he hissed. "I'm not that stupid. What I want to do is find that bastard Alfred and find out what the hell he's planning!"

Antonio paused, his mouth agape. Then he shut it and pondered for a moment, raising his head to gaze at Lovino. "You think Alfred is planning something?"

His Italian friend narrowed his eyes, spit on the ground, and scowled. "Of course he is. When's the last time any of us have heard from him or his fucking minions?"

"A while," Antonio admitted. "But if it's really anything to be concerned about, why don't you go to Ludwig and tell him?"

Lovino yelled, a wordless holler of frustration escaping his mouth. He raised his knife, causing Antonio to flinch, then hurled it across the alleyway. The blade hit a wall and cluttered to the ground with a clang.

"I'm _sick and tired_ of that potato bastard! He hasn't launched an attack on the Hawks in weeks! And now he still expects us to follow him around like a fucking king! Well, I'm finished. _Soldaten_ needs a new leader, or at least someone who will do something about this goddamn situation."

"You're wrong," came Antonio's protest. He reached out and touched Lovino's cheek, running his fingers down his face. His friend shut his eyes, letting the Spaniard have a rare moment of affection for him. Lovino's hand moved to trace the emblem on Antonio's jacket. The symbol of _Soldaten_ was simple, two swords facing in opposite vertical directions. However, it stood for so much more. What originally started as a quarrel between teenage Alfred and Ludwig transformed into two full-out city gangs: the Hawks and _Soldaten._

"You're wrong," he repeated. "Ludwig is not a stupid person, Lovino. If the Hawks are silent, then leave them be. If we _do_ attack, what do you expect Ludwig to say? 'We attacked you because you were too quiet.' What would that solve?"

"But that only means we'll be less prepared if _they_ attack!"

"Lovino…" Antonio took a deep breath and rested his chin on his friend's head. "You're courageous. That will make you a great person one day. But you need to learn to _trust._ " He paused, his green eyes shining with thought. "All of us do."

A few minutes passed, and neither of the two men spoke. This situation had been continuing for years and had recently spiraled out of control. Most of the members were in their early twenties, as anyone above twenty-nine or so didn't know enough about them to get involved. Lovino was seventeen when it began. Three years. This had been happening for three years.

Lovino sighed angrily, his teeth clenched with rage. Finally, he met Antonio's gaze. "Fine," he huffed, then stormed away. His Spanish counterpart thought he would retrieve his fallen dagger, but Lovino trudged past it.

"Lovino, you-"

"I'm going home!"

Antonio grinned to himself as he watched him jog home. Lovino was his best friend, and he had mentored the hotheaded Italian when he had first joined _Soldaten._ Also, he was one of the few men Lovino could stand.

He knelt down, picked up the knife, and began to head back to his house, deciding it was late enough. Antonio hooked the blade into his belt, feeling its comforting weight as he, too, walked home in the downpour.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: First official chapter! This one is much longer, believe me, and we finally get to see Feliciano! Yay, he's cool. A little too innocent for street gangs, but meh. Warning, there is minor character death and gore in this chapter, and lots of dialogue.**

 **I won't keep you. Enjoy!**

 **Side Note: The character Tony, who only appears in a flashback during this chapter, is named after America's alien friend. I didn't want to kill off any of the actual nations, and he was the first option that came to mind.**

 **xXxXx**

Feliciano pried open his amber eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight flooding through his bedroom window. The small Italian grinned as he woke and stretched the sleep from his limbs. Small beads of water shone on the glass of Feliciano's window; clearly, it had rained last night.

Sighing, the young man forced himself out of bed and slipped on his clothes. They weren't his work clothes, but the café didn't open until ten o'clock anyway. As Feliciano brushed out his auburn hair, a shocking thought popped into his head:

 _Lovino was out last night._

Alarmed, he dropped the brush in distress, ignoring the one stubborn curl that sprung from the left side of his head. Oddly, Feliciano could never get that curl to stay down. He burst from his bedroom, rushing down the short hallway to Lovino's. He knocked on the door frantically and released a sigh of relief when it opened. His irritated brother's eyes met his own. Before Feliciano could speak, Lovino opened his mouth.

"Wait, Feli, let me guess. You're going to tell me I wasn't home last night. I know. And then I'll try to tell you what I was doing, but you'll interrupt me with, 'This gang stuff is too dangerous, Lovi. You'll get killed, Lovi. The police are going to arrest you, Lovi,' and then tell me to quit like it's so simple."

Feliciano blinked and stepped away. "I'm sorry."

Lovino shook his head, sighing. "No, Feli, don't be. I guess I would be pissed at you if you were the one who was in a gang."

As the two brothers headed into their kitchen and ate breakfast, Feliciano attempted to approach the subject once more. "It's just that… _fratello,_ I get so scared when you're not home when I go to sleep. When I wake up, I fear you won't be here, that something has happened to you."

His brother eyed him, an unreadable expression plastered on his face. "I can take care of myself, you know," he muttered, "and my comrades are virtually fearless. Besides, there hasn't been any action in weeks. I don't know why I even bother anymore."

"And you want there to be trouble?" questioned Feliciano, tipping his head curiously to one side. "But…why? Isn't it better that you aren't fighting with each other?"

Lovino's hand clenched into a lethal fist, and his hazel eyes lit with fire. "No, Feli, it's not." He finished his breakfast and stood, taking care of his dishes.

"But-"

"No, Feliciano, it's not. The members of _Soldaten_ are forgetting what it is we're fighting over! The stolen money, possessions…lives. Remember how I told you about how Elizabeta killed Tony? That's what started this shit, an accident. She didn't even _mean_ to, Feliciano. He came after her and she was quicker with her knife than he was. Then Alfred swore war over us! Over an accident! She was only defending herself, because Alfred can't control his friends."

Lovino paused for breath, meeting his brother's wide amber eyes. That was it. He was finished ranting. "There. It just goes to show you how unjust Alfred and the Hawks are."

The room went silent as Feliciano let Lovino's words sink in. He glanced at the clock; it was nine-thirty. He would have to open the café soon.

"So…are you going out tonight?" Feliciano asked, shuffling in his chair awkwardly.

Lovino shook his head. "No, I'm not, unless I'm needed. Now come on. Let's go get ready for work."

The two brothers had lost their parents in a shooting when their children were infants. They had hired a babysitter so they could have a night out, but their dinner was interrupted by two gunmen who decided to wreak havoc on the restaurant. Mr. and Mrs. Vargas were some of the first to die, shot cleanly in the head and killed instantly.

So Feliciano and Lovino were handed over to their grandfather, Romulus. He was a natural at caretaking, and was the guardian of the twins until they were twelve. Romulus's life ended in a brutal car accident in which he sacrificed himself to shield the twins.

From there, it was the foster home for the two boys. However, they were never adopted, and so that was where they stayed until they became adults. The year before, Lovino had gotten involved in gang business, where he made both major friends and major enemies. In the city streets, he befriended a young girl named Elizabeta. Being twenty-four years of age at the time, she was able to offer the boys a place to stay while they collected their own savings.

At the time, things were becoming very heated between the Hawks and _Soldaten._ The latter group was shocked to have feisty, independent Lovino ask to join, but they eventually agreed to let him in. Besides, he was strong and spirited, and the gang desperately needed more members. There was a third group by the name of Vargar av is, but they preferred to stay low and out of the others' business. Feliciano kept out of it altogether, more suited to relaxing at night opposed to running around on the streets.

Then one day, the two groups met to discuss several topics and issues. Lovino could remember it all so clearly; Ludwig and Alfred facing each other with blazing blue eyes, talking with their teeth gritted. Their second-in-commands stood beside them for support, silently taking in the situation and analyzing it. _Soldaten_ 's deputy was a young Japanese man by the name of Kiku, and for the Hawks, it was Tony. Tony was not only Alfred's trusted advisor, but his closest friend as well.

At one point, Alfred expressed an opinion that _Soldaten_ did not agree with. While the majority of the group kept their mouths shut, Elizabeta and Lovino were unable to do so.

 _"What is it?" Alfred had taunted Ludwig. "Can't you silence your comrades?"_

 _"Oh, fuck off, you dumbass American bastard," hissed Lovino, clearly enjoying the argument that was sure to ensue._

 _"How dare you speak to him like that? Why don't you shut up and apologize to Alfred?" Tony's outburst was interrupted by Elizabeta's cackling._

 _"Why don't you shove it up your ass?" she had mocked, her green eyes shining._

 _"Well," Tony spat, "if you're so brave, woman, step forward."_

 _Elizabeta stalked forward, her gait resembling a tiger's stride. She leant in close to him, furious. "There. Happy?"_

 _"Who knew a girl could be this courageous?" Tony looked expectantly at Alfred, whose blue eyes were sparkling with doubt._

 _"Tony-"_

 _"Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, you big fat bird," she hissed to the deputy._

 _That was when it happened. Tony lunged at Elizabeta, his temper exploding. She ducked out of the way, sending him flying, and withdrew her pocketknife. It was all she had at that moment, since Ludwig had told them this was a meeting, not a battle. Therefore, there was no need for further weapons._

Ironic, _she thought._

 _"Don't touch her, you motherfucker!" Lovino hollered, stepping forward, but Ludwig threw a hand over his chest._

 _"This is_ their _fight."_

 _"Come near me and it goes in your eye," taunted Elizabeta, holding out the knife._

 _Tony was eighteen and wasn't very bright. Rather than stopping the quarrel and avoiding further injury, he took out his own dagger and ran at her. From there, the others realized that it was becoming violent and attempted to stop them._

 _Yet Tony was crazed with anger. As Alfred and Francis, another Hawk, jumped forward to control him, he kept fighting. He cut open Elizabeta's arm and his fellow gang members could do nothing to stop him. Wriggling out of their grasp, he escaped his comrades and attacked the member of_ Soldaten.

 _It happened in slow motion. Tony loomed over her and as he came down, she saw her chance. She struck forward, trying to stab his shoulder to disarm him, but he lost his balance and jerked to the side._

 _The knife plunged right into his chest._

 _Elizabeta gasped, rolling to the side as his body plummeted to the ground. Tony screamed and clawed at his chest. The knife couldn't have hit his heart, but he made the dumb move of tugging the blade out of his flesh. Blood poured profusely from the wound, and his eyes grew whiter. The life was literally pouring out of him as he spat out blood and mucus. None of the bystanders had ever seen a murder, let alone something like this._

 _"W-well, chick," Tony stuttered, his voice horribly raspy, "you_ can _fight." Then he fell still with one final cough, his green eyes glazed over. Silence settled over the two groups as shock and realization sunk into every single person who was there._

 _"Tony!" Alfred's cry split through the tense atmosphere. "Tony, no!"_

 _Ludwig leapt forward and grabbed Elizabeta's arm, forcing her back in case Alfred snapped. His blue eyes noticed the gash on her arm._

 _"Are you hurt?"_

 _"I-I'm fine." However, the girl looked far from fine; she looked traumatized._

 _"Shit!"_

 _There were tears streaming down Alfred's face at this point, as he tried to shake Tony awake. Francis walked over to them and pressed two fingers to the crook of Tony's neck. He paused and waited for a moment, then shook his head._

 _"No pulse. He's gone. I'm sorry,_ mon ami."

 _"No." It came out as a choked sob, and Alfred stood, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. No one had ever seen the gang leader like that before. "Now you've asked for it, you bunch of good-for-nothing murderers!" he screeched, staring right at Elizabeta._

 _"She was only defending-" Ludwig began._

 _"Shut your mouth! We came here to talk, and now my second-in-command is dead! From now on, if I see any of you losers on the streets, you die."_

Soldaten _stood, stunned, as Alfred spat obscenities at them. Then, he and a few of his comrades helped haul Tony's body away. Lovino gazed down at the cement ground as he took in the sight of the man's blood stains._

No, not a man, _thought Lovino,_ a child. He wasn't an adult yet.

 _"It's better if you all go home," Ludwig announced, turning away from the scene. "It won't be safe out here for a few weeks at least. I will contact you if necessary." Then he turned and strode away, his eyes betraying absolutely no emotion._

 _Lovino cringed as he recalled the incident and what came after. The day after Tony's death, Elizabeta approached Lovino and Feliciano in a panicked matter. She had made a deal with a friend she had who owned a café downtown, as well as the apartment above it. Since the owners didn't reside there, the brothers were allowed to stay there as long as they worked. When Lovino asked why they had to leave, Elizabeta began to cry._

 _"Because nobody knows what Alfred holds against me after last night," she had sobbed, "so I have to get you two out of here, just in case…just in case they come for me or try to find a way to hurt me."_

 _Feliciano cried too, hugging his surrogate sister close. Lovino just backed away, horrified at the thought of someone killing her to exact their revenge. Or you. They could kill you._

 _"All right," he had muttered, "let's get to it, then."_

 _And so, Feliciano and Lovino moved into the two-bedroom apartment above the café. This went on until last year, when the previous owners moved away to pursue a better career. They transferred the ownership over to the brothers, and it's been like that ever since._

 _The two of them were actually rather decent cooks, as Romulus used to teach them all sorts of Italian recipes. The twins interviewed a few teenagers to help do some side work, and then their life was finally on the right track. They officially owned the café._

xXxXx

Feliciano smiled softly as he switched the sign on the front door from "closed" to "open". There was little he loved more than cooking, especially when it was for the local citizens he dared to call his friends.

However, as the day, progressed, he noticed a slight change in Lovino's behavior. He was oddly silent, getting his work done quietly and efficiently. This wasn't how Lovino usually acted; most of the time, he was very involved with the customers. Although it took all of his willpower not to scream, curse, or insult the customers, he was a fine waiter. Besides, it wasn't as if he had any other choice.

Feliciano did his best to ignore the mood change. This was Lovino, and he was one of the least predictable people Feli knew, and the most bipolar.

His head rose to look from where he was standing to the doorway. As the café wasn't busy, Feliciano could easily keep track of who was in the building. When the door opened, he was glad to see a familiar face.

 _"Ciao,_ Roderich!" he called as his friend stepped into the café. He had known Roderich for a long time, as he used to be in a relationship with Elizabeta. Feliciano had no clue where they stood now, but according to Lovino's gossip, they seemed to be on good terms.

"Shh," Roderich hissed, glaring at Feliciano from under his glasses. "This is serious. May I speak to Lovino?"

"Of course. I'll…" he trailed off. "Is this gang business?"

The Austrian's eyes widened. "What?"

"I asked you if it was gang business."

Roderich gazed at Feliciano, seemingly with pity. Pity for him or pity for his brother? "I…oh, Lovino!"

The young man stopped in his tracks as he walked by. "Roderich, you bastard, I'm working here! Whatever you want, make it quick!"

"Yes, just…tonight. Ludwig wants us." He handed a note to Lovino, who unfolded it, read the writing, and stuffed it in his pocket.

"All right," he muttered. "Tonight."

Roderich nodded and exited the café, leaving the two brother behind. The younger stared at Lovino in shock.

"You promised!" he cried softly. "You said you were staying home tonight!"

"I said _only_ if they didn't need me."

"But-"

"Get back to work, Feli," ordered Lovino, pushing past his brother.

xXxXx

"This is ridiculous!" Feliciano yelled, nine hours later.

Lovino stopped dead as his cry rang throughout their apartment. Feliciano never, ever yelled, and when he did, something was up.

"Why do you have to go? Why do I have to go to sleep every night wondering where you are, if you're alive? Siblings don't do that to each other, Lovi!"

"Calm the fuck down!"

Silence. Both Feliciano and Lovino were panting with rage, and hazel eyes turned on amber ones. Tears dripped down Feliciano's tanned cheeks, effectively breaking Lovino's heart.

"It's only a meeting. I'll be fine."

Feliciano paused, seemingly considering his words. "Only a meeting?"

"Yes."

"All right," he announced, "then I'm coming with you."

A flash of hurt overtook Lovino's face for a moment, then shock. Finally, he settled on an aggravated look. "No. Are you serious?"

"But it's 'just a meeting'."

"You-" Lovino began, but then realized Feliciano could be very stubborn when he desired. Whether the elder brother wanted it or not, he was coming.

"Fine, you bastard."

xXxXx

It felt so unnatural to be out this late at night. Humans were hardwired to be active when the sun, not the moon and the stars, was high in the sky. To add to that, it was freezing. February wasn't exactly a warm month, and Feliciano did not do cold.

 _"Fratello,_ how can you stand this? It's so cold. And aren't you tired?"

For a split second, a smile crossed Lovino's face, and he shrugged. "I don't know. I guess you get used to it after a while."

Feliciano nodded, but he still did not understand.

"Hey, you two!"

The brothers turned at the sound of the familiar voice. It was Antonio, one of Lovino's few friends, and perhaps his best one as well.

 _"Ciao!"_ Feliciano greeted, but Antonio looked at him doubtfully then gazed at Lovino.

"You brought your brother?" he asked, as if he were trying to hide the fact that he was so surprised. "Why?"

"The poor bastard wouldn't let me leave the house without him."

"Oh."

They were still trekking through the streets and alleyways several minutes later. Feliciano was beginning to regret his decision of insisting on coming.

"Are we near?" he asked, pressing close to his older brother.

"A few more minutes."

"Here," Antonio said, gesturing to an alleyway. "Let's cut through here."

"That's awfully dark," protested Feliciano weakly, but the other two were already gone.

The alleyway felt humid and was pitch black. Feliciano could make out a dumpster and a few trash bags. There was an ominous feel about the place, and all three of the men felt unsettled.

"Wait," Lovino hissed. Then, one of the trash bags moved, stood, and revealed a figure. As a car drove by, the lights hit something silver, as well as light clothing.

"Ah, what do we have here? Friends? Oh, wait, no, not friends. You're…how you say _Soldaten,_ _Д_ _a?"_

xXxXx

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 **Ciao: Hello (Italian)**

 **Fratello: Brother (Italian)**

 **Mon ami: My friend (French)**

 **Д** **a (pronounced "da"): Yes (Russian)**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just for clarification, this chapter and the next are both pre-written, plus like a quarter (?) of chapter 4. So updates might be a bit slower than usual after chapter 3. I'll probably have something similar to weekly updates. Maybe a little less, maybe a little more. It all depends. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks so much for the follows, reviews and favorites! 3**

"Ivan." The Hawk's name came out as a whisper, as Antonio was too afraid to say it any louder.

 _"_ _Д_ _a_ , Antonio, you are correct!" His heavy Russian accent shattered the peaceful night air. Ivan clapped his gloved hands in obvious glee.

"The hell do you want?" Lovino spat, his hands clenching into lethal little fists. Feliciano cringed, instinctively shuffling closer to his brother.

"Well, the word is that there's a meeting going on. Why didn't you invite me?"

"I…" Antonio's voice drifted off in terror; he had heard of this man, innocent at first and then disgustingly sadistic.

Ivan pulled out a flashlight in one swift movement and flicked it on. The three gasped in fear as they noticed what he had brought with him: a pickaxe and a faucet pipe.

"No one ever invites me to anything anymore! It's as if they're afraid of me, yet I don't know why."

"Are you insane, you brain-dead commie?" shot Lovino, his face contorted with rage. "You mutilate people with household objects and you wonder why we hate you?"

"Lovi, don't," Feliciano hissed.

Ivan's violet eyes glinted with amusement. "This is the smart one, _д_ _a?_ Lovino?"

"Don't say my name, bastard."

"And who are you?" the Russian continued, peering at Feliciano. "I haven't seen you around before." Feliciano almost got sick when he noticed the Hawk fiddling impatiently with his pickaxe.

"I'm-"

"That's none of your goddamn business!" The Italian's face was red, and he looked more livid than Feliciano had ever seen him before. "Why are you even here? Some sick plan you conjured up with that idiot Alfred?"

Ivan grinned wickedly. "Well, I might as well tell you. It certainly couldn't hurt." He ran a gloved hand slowly, almost lovingly, over the pipe. "My gang and I have made a plan. We knew of information of your meeting, and so now all of your friends are being attacked. See, we were all assigned one of _Soldaten,_ and I got you, Lovino."

Feliciano was crying at this point. "Are you going to kill us?" he asked weakly as he trembled.

Ivan frowned. "Sadly, Alfred told me I was not to kill." His eyes fixed on Lovino and he tightened his grip on the pickaxe. "However, that will not prevent me from maiming."

With that, Ivan swung his pickaxe at Lovino, barely missing his stomach as the latter dodged his strike. All three of them were weaponless; attacks like this were unprecedented. Lovino threw himself at Ivan's middle, attempting to unbalance him.

"Antonio!" he shrieked. "Run, you bastard! Go! _Feli!"_

"I won't leave you," the Spaniard responded, gritting his teeth and hurling himself at Ivan. The pickaxe caught him in the shoulder, causing him to shout in pain and back off. Feliciano watched in horror as his friend and brother attempted to fight off the larger man. Eventually, Antonio wrenched himself away from Ivan and took a moment to stare at them, as if he were analyzing the situation.

"Feliciano, it's no use," he breathed. "I have to find help. There's no way we can hold Ivan off."

"Go!" Lovino screeched, then yelled as he was cut in the stomach. Antonio nodded and turned, sprinting away as fast as he could.

 _I won't let him mutilate Lovino._

The thought was clear in his mind as, with a cry of rage, Feliciano bolted towards his brother and the attacker. Deep down, however, he knew that his attempts were futile.

 _Wham!_ The world erupted in pain and white lightning as Ivan swung at Feliciano's head with the faucet pipe.

"Gah!" The little Italian crumpled to the ground, his head spinning violently. When he raised a hand to touch his temple, the fingers came back stained with blood. _"Merda!"_ he shrieked.

When Feliciano gazed back up at the scene, his brother was unconscious and bleeding. Ivan was staring down at him in satisfaction. Then he turned, slowly, to Feliciano, his violet eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

 _"Halt!"_

Before Ivan could give Feliciano a second glance, two men appeared at the end of the alleyway. One of them was Antonio; however, Feliciano didn't recognize the other one. He looked like nothing short of a fighter, with a muscular build, blonde hair, and eyes that shone with blue fire. He towered over Antonio by a few inches, and held out a handgun.

"What is the meaning of this?" he shouted in an intimidating German accent. "Why are you here?"

"Ah, Ludwig," Ivan crooned, "it's you. I'm actually rather surprised Alfred hasn't gotten to you yet."

"What?"

 _This is Ludwig,_ thought Feliciano. _This is_ Soldaten's _leader, the one who Lovino can't stand. But he looks like a great leader._

"Yeah, can you believe it?" a voice boomed from above them. A shadow appeared on the roof of one of the buildings beside them, and it dropped down to stand beside Ivan. His comrade looked absolutely ecstatic. He wore a brown jacket, with an emblem of a fierce-looking bird of prey sewn onto the shoulders. All Hawks, including Ivan, had this symbol on their coats. This new man was armed as well.

"Dammit, Alfred," shot Ludwig. "Can't you just grow up already? You're nineteen. You're a child. What does someone your age want? Power? Money?"

Alfred's sapphire blue eyes flashed with anger under his glasses. He bared his teeth in a dog-like snarl and puffed out his chest.

"Mind you, _Luddy,_ but you're only a year older than me. Should you really be making these hypocritical statements?" He paused, looked down at Lovino's unmoving body, and smiled. "You can't even keep your own comrades safe. I see you've followed my orders, Ivan," he muttered. "Great job."

"It's always a pleasure to be of assistance, Alfred."

"This is bullshit!" Ludwig shouted, stalking towards the two Hawks. "Why have you injured Lovino in this way?"

Alfred shrugged, his face expressing nothing but smugness. "Vengeance. Fun. Because I wanted to."

Antonio stepped forward, his green eyes wide with anger. When he looked at Lovino again, tears streamed down his face.

"You sick piece of shit! You're insane!" He crumpled to the ground, pulling Lovino's unconscious, bleeding body towards him. Feliciano noticed him trying to staunch the blood that was pouring from his friend's body.

"Not insane, Antonio," replied Ivan, "just helpful."

"Yeah," his counterpart scoffed. "Even if he wasn't particularly mean or cruel, Lovino was an annoying asshole who just needed to learn to shut the hell up. Anyway, I see…I see I'm not going to be able to get to Ludwig now." He turned, looking at his gun and then at Ludwig's. "We'll settle this another time. Come, Ivan."

As the two stalked away nonchalantly, Ivan turned to Feliciano. "I'll see you again," he purred. Terror shot through Feliciano's chest. Was that a threat or a hunch?

"Help him!" Antonio called to Lovino's brother. "Call an ambulance or something! We have to help him!"

"I'm on it," Feliciano responded, pulling out his cellphone and dialing the police. He spoke in quick, hushed, terrified breaths. Once he put the phone down, he crouched beside Antonio. The Spaniard was holding Feliciano's brother close to his chest, mumbling comforting words to him. He had wrapped his own jacket around the still body.

"He'll be fine," Feliciano assured him. "He's always been the strongest of us three." He wasn't exactly sure if he was trying to reassure his friend or himself more.

Antonio nodded, but Feliciano could tell he wasn't really convinced. The Italian shrugged and sighed sadly before standing up again. He noticed that Ludwig was still there, staring off into space; all the menace had left his eyes, only to be replaced with a strong look of confusion.

"Um…sir?"

The gang leader started and blinked down at the smaller man. "Yes?"

"Uh…are you okay?"

"Oh." Ludwig glanced down at the ground. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."

Feliciano smiled softly. For someone of looks this intimidating, Ludwig sure didn't talk much. He could hear police sirens wailing in the distance, signaling that help would soon be there.

"Okay," he said, "I just want to thank you for helping us. For saving Lovino." Feliciano sent a gentle smile his way, but Ludwig didn't smile back. "It was a good thing you had that gun on you. If you didn't, Antonio and I would have been in real trouble."

Ludwig shrugged. "That's what leaders are for, I guess. When you're in charge of a gang, it would be stupid to walk around at night unarmed."

"Speaking of which," Antonio called, "maybe you should go, Ludwig. It wouldn't be good for you if the cops found you with a gun now."

"…I…" Ludwig breathed, staring at Feliciano. Then he nodded. "Right. I have to tell everyone about this before anyone else gets hurt. Also, the meeting is called off. I have the information I need." He looked at Feliciano once more. "It was nice meeting you, um…"

The small man's brown eyes widened, then he grinned. "I'm Feliciano," he responded. "It was…interesting meeting you. I've been told many things about you." He outstretched his arm.

Ludwig shook his hand and gave Feliciano a surprisingly sweet smile. "They weren't very nice things, if I know Lovino."

"Go!" Antonio hissed. "Now!" The police were close enough for the three to see flashing blue lights. Ludwig's face returned to a stoic emotion, and he fled, sprinting down the opposite side of the alleyway.

xXxXx

"Feliciano."

Upon hearing his name, the small Italian blinked open his eyes. "Mm…what?" He jumped when he realized he wasn't in his cozy bed back home. Instead, he was in a rather uncomfortable position, hunched over in a chair far too small for proper sleep. "Wha…"

A giggle sounded from in front of him, so Feliciano turned his head in that direction. It took a few seconds for his blurry vision to focus, but once it did, Feliciano was greeted by Antonio.

"Oh…"

"Here, Feli," said his friend, holding out a paper cup. "I brought you some coffee."

It all came back to him at once. The fight, the ambulance, the panic…and now he was in a hospital waiting room while doctors patched up the gash in his brother's stomach. He didn't know what time it was or what kind of state Lovino was in, but Antonio wasn't hysterical. That was a good sign.

"What time is it?" he slurred, taking the cup from his friend. _"Grazie."_

"Like, four in the morning." Feliciano swiveled his head to gaze out of the hospital window. Indeed, the black sky was beginning to lighten. He took a sip of the bland hospital coffee and met Antonio's eyes.

"How is Lovino doing?"

Their friend shrugged, his green eyes glinting with sadness. "He's…okay. He's not going to die." When he heard that, Feliciano breathed a sigh of relief. However, the grief that showed on Antonio's face quickly caused him to worry once more. "But…he lost a lot of blood – more than the hospital could give him in time."

Feliciano clenched his fists together in anticipation. "And?" He remembered how the nurses had asked him to donate blood, and he did so without hesitation. Even after he had given as much blood as he could legally give, Feliciano still felt useless.

"Well, it's unlikely he'll go through anything too long and drastic, but…he's expected to be comatose for at least a few days. I'm sorry, Feliciano."

As soon as Antonio finished speaking, the room fell into utter silence. "C-comatose?"

" _Sí_. But he'll…he'll be fine in a couple of days, mi amigo. You said not too long ago that he was always the strong one."

A few tears collected in Feliciano's honey-colored eyes, and he collapsed into Antonio. His friend held him close as he sobbed and babbled about how he always told him not to go out, that it would end up like this. Minutes passed before Feliciano was able to sit up on his own again. He sniffled, then his eyes widened as a thought came to him.

"Antonio?"

 _"¿Sí?_

"Why does Lovino hate Ludwig so much? He seems like a fine leader to me."

Antonio shrugged. "He can be," he elaborated, "but sometimes he's a bit too demanding. We train and train and train but nothing ever comes up."

Feliciano sighed softly and leant back in his uncomfortable chair. "So Alfred's the bad one? He doesn't look so bad. He just looks ignorant."

Antonio shot him a smile. "You're absolutely correct. I won't give you the details, but let's just say Alfred's ignorance has prolonged many issues over these past few years."

The two men ceased their speaking as the sun rose over the city. The only movement was when Feliciano finished off his coffee and strode over to a trash can to dispose of the cup. Both of them were too deep in thought to chat.

As the clock struck six o'clock, Feliciano said, "You know what this means, right?"

"What?" Antonio's eyes widened in bewilderment. "What's 'this?'"

"The violence. The other gang nearly killing my brother, the only blood relative I have left. All of it."

"So?" Antonio crossed his arms over his chest, still failing to see his point.

Feliciano turned, slowly, to face his friend. His eyes were grave, and he looked as if he were far older than twenty. The wisdom on his face shocked the other man into silence.

"I have to join _Soldaten."_

 **TRANSLATIONS**

 ** _Д_ _a_ \- Yes (Russian)**

 ** _Merda_ \- Shit (Italian)**

 _ **Grazie-**_ **Thank you (Italian)**

 _ **Sí-**_ **Yes (Spanish)**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Just a head's up: this is the last prewritten chapter, but chapter 4 is almost finished so that should be up soon. I'll probably have it up in a few days, a week at the most. Wait, scratch that. It definitely will not take a week. This note is a train wreck. Never mind.**

 **Some one-sided (for now) Spain/South Italy in this chapter! As always, enjoy.**

Antonio stared at Feliciano for a full minute, his emerald eyes full of question marks. Then he erupted into laughter, an odd sight opposed to the situation they were in.

"Antonio!" Feliciano cried, offended. "Stop laughing! I'm serious!"

The Spaniard paused for a moment as he attempted to stifle his giggles, but he broke down again, tears cascading down his cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry, Feli…it's just…" He wiped tears from his eyes. "You? I'm sorry, but…you wouldn't last one night out there! No offense, _mi amigo._ "

"You don't think I could fight?"

Antonio sobered up immediately. "Feliciano. Do you realize how dangerous gang activity is? Police are out for you. The other gangs are out for you, especially the Hawks as of late. How many people do you know that would willingly take a bullet for you? Lovino, maybe. Me, if it came to it. And if you're alone, or with members you aren't close to, you're done for. Why do you think Lovino and I always travel together? If you're shot or stabbed, other members won't even look back before running away. Won't even check to see if you're still breathing. No one has your back but yourself."

Tears of embarrassment flooded Feliciano's eyes. They ran down his cheeks and dripped solemnly to the floor.

 _"S_ _ì,"_ he muttered, "I guess you're right."

Feliciano felt a warm hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, Antonio was staring intently into his eyes.

"Look. I truly do not mean to offend you, but I am _not_ going to have you risk your life because of Lovino, okay? Your brother is the best friend I have ever had in my entire life. I care for him more deeply than you could ever imagine, and it's a miracle he has pulled through. What if that happened to you? How do you think Lovino and I would feel?"

Feliciano sniffled. "I understand, Antonio."

"Good." Antonio stood up and patted Feliciano's shoulder. "Do you want to go see Lovino? He's not supposed to be having visitors this soon, but his nurse made an exception for you and me."

Feliciano's eyes lit up. "Really? Let's go!"

Antonio reached over and clutched at the Italian man's arm. "It's not a pretty sight," he warned. "Just be aware."

The younger man nodded eagerly and sprung to his feet. He would have done anything in that moment to see his older brother alive and breathing. Antonio grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the maze of white hallways. Ever since he was small, Feliciano hated hospitals. It reminded him too much of the day his grandfather died. Every time he looked into one of the rooms, he expected to see his beloved grandpa bruised and bleeding, dying slowly. A shiver ran down Feliciano's spine as he recalled the violent car accident that claimed his grandfather.

Antonio approached a nurse while Feliciano was daydreaming and asked for Lovino. The woman, a curvy, short little thing, nodded slowly and stepped aside, clearing the path to his door. "Just be careful," she warned. "Be gentle. He hasn't awoken yet. He actually was somewhat conscious earlier, but he wasn't… _awake,_ per se. Mumbling, twitching. His eyes opened for a few seconds, but they were blurry and unfocused." The woman paused and shuddered. "The eyes of a dead man."

Feliciano had to stifle a gasp, and he covered his mouth with a hand. "D-dead?"

The nurse shook her head quickly. "No, no, disregard that. He'll be fine. Just…don't worry too much, hm? Try not to disturb him."

"Of course," Antonio muttered. He glanced at Feliciano and put a finger to his lips, then pushed open the door to Lovino's room.

There was nothing Feliciano wanted more than to shut his eyes against the image that was surely about to be burned into his memory for as long as he would live. However, he knew it was his duty to know what had become of his big brother, the person who had always protected him from nearly every danger that had come his way. It was always like that; Lovino the protector, Feliciano the peacekeeper.

Lovino's state wasn't as gruesome as it had been when he had first been wounded. There was a gash on his head that had been patched up nicely and given stitches. Bandages were wrapped around his torso, so there was no way Feliciano could see the numerous wounds that Ivan had delivered.

Antonio made his way over to Lovino's head, sighing and sitting down on a chair that had been pulled next to the bed. He brushed a lock of russet hair out of his friend's face and nuzzled his cheek with his nose.

"Feliciano," he whispered, "come here. It's all right."

The Italian nodded and strode slowly to his brother's side, crouching beside the hospital bed. He pulled his arm and held his hand to his chest. Tears sprung to Feliciano's eyes as he rested his head on Lovino's shoulder. He buried his face into the light clothing he was wearing, and sighed with relief when he realized he was warm.

"Oh, God, _fratello._ I am so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Feliciano," mumbled Antonio. "This is _not_ your fault. It will never _be_ your fault. No one could have prevented this, whether it was you, me, him, or anyone else."

"I…" The tears spilled onto Feliciano's cheeks and he sniffled softly. "I have to go get a drink of water or something."

His friend nodded. "Take your time."

Feliciano rushed out of the room and nearly ran to the closest bathroom, where he locked himself in a stall and began to sob. How could everything go so wrong so quickly? How could this happen? _No matter what happens,_ he thought, _everyone I get close to has to be hurt like this. Why? What did I do? What did_ they _do?_

Feliciano cried himself out for a good ten minutes then composed himself. _Calm down. Calm down, Feliciano. Lovino will live. He will not die, not like Grandpa and Mama and Papa. He will be fine._

With a heavy sigh, the Italian man left the bathroom and headed back to Lovino's room. However, he halted when he heard Antonio speaking. Was he talking to some sort of doctor? Maybe he shouldn't barge in…

As Feliciano listened more closely, he realized Antonio was in fact _not_ talking to a nurse or doctor. Instead, he was talking in hushed whispers to Lovino. Feliciano shuffled closer to the door, making sure he was not seen. He felt bad for eavesdropping, but then again, Lovino was _his_ brother.

"Listen to me, Lovi," Antonio muttered, "I will not live to see you die like this, do you hear me? Feliciano loves you. I… _I_ love you. You will _not_ die on me. If you do, I will personally bring you back to life and kill you again. Brothers do not leave each other alone."

Feliciano peered around the corner in time to see his friend press his lips to the side of Lovino's face. He cradled his cheek in one of his hands and rested his forehead against his own. "You will get better, _mi amor._ I promise you that."

The younger Italian nearly burst into tears again. He _knew_ it, _knew_ Antonio held something dear for his brother. He always showed more affection towards Lovino, even though he loved both the twins dearly. Lovino was bad-tempered and grouchy, but no one saw past that more than Antonio. Even Feliciano could get frustrated with his brother's stubbornness.

"Antonio," Feli said as he entered the room. Said man's head shot up more quickly than it ever had before. "I'm sorry, but…I heard that."

Antonio's green eyes widened. Whether it was with shock or anger, Feliciano could not tell. "You heard everything?"

"Yes. And I just want you to know that there is no one better for my brother than you. I always had a feeling you two would end up together. It was only a matter of time, to be quite honest with you. If…no, _when_ he wakes up, he is all yours."

"Oh, _God,_ Feliciano." Antonio rose from his seat and walked to embrace Feli, holding him close with the crushing force of a brother. "Thank you, _hermano,_ thank you."

"You are very welcome, _fratello."_

xXxXx

The three of them stayed next to each other until evening fell. Since it was January, the sun set at around 3:30, and Feliciano was getting sick and tired of seeing his brother in this miserable situation.

"Antonio," he announced, "I'm going home. I'll walk. You don't need to worry, I just…I need some time to think. Some time to be on my own, you know?"

His friend smiled kindly and met his eyes. "Of course. Be careful."

"I will."

So Feliciano left, walking down the cold, sterile hallways of the hospital. The smell of antiseptic was giving him a headache, and emerging into the chilly outside air was rather a relief. The sky was dark and speckled with small stars, an unusual sight since the city lights usually blocked them out.

As he strolled down the vacant streets, Feliciano pondered the current situation. It was clarified that Lovino was most likely going to wake up, but that wasn't for a while. Two, three weeks? When he did wake up, however, Feliciano could tell Antonio wasn't going to let him out of his sight. Then-

"Hey!"

Feliciano had never spun around so quickly in his life. Since the other day, it frightened him to even imagine anyone lurking in the alleyways.

A shadow strolled towards him swiftly. As Feliciano saw it, he had two options: turn out like Lovino or run for his life. Feli being Feli, he chose the latter. He was a rather decent runner; he would always come in first or second place whenever there were races back in school. He could tell the shadow was following him.

"Hey! You! Come back!"

 _No, no, no, go away, go away, go-_

"Lovino!"

Feliciano skidded to a stop. Anyone who called Lovino's name in a manner that desperately must be someone friendly. The shadow, however, did not slow down and barreled into Feliciano. The Italian crumpled to the ground, bringing the taller man down with him.

"I am so sorry!"

The man's blue eyes widened with shock. "Oh, _Scheiße!_ You're not Lovino, are you? You're his brother. It's something that begins with an 'f', correct?"

"Feliciano," he whispered.

"That's it," the man muttered, scrambling to his feet. "Do you remember me?"

Feliciano narrowed his eyes. "Take your hood off," he ordered. The man did as he was told, revealing his face and a head of sleek blonde hair. "Yes. You're Ludwig. You're the one that saved my brother."

Ludwig nodded, extending a hand. "Correct. I had a feeling we would meet again." Feliciano grabbed his outstretched hand, pulling himself to his feet. He glanced around, noticing the vacant streets. "What are you doing out here? It's cold, and you're alone."

"I was visiting my brother. He's in the hospital."

Ludwig's eyes widened again. "That's right. How is he getting along?"

"He's…okay, I suppose. His wounds aren't fatal, but he's been in a coma for a while and isn't expected to wake up for a few weeks. He isn't going to die," sighed Feliciano, echoing Antonio's words from the previous morning.

A flash of surprise crossed Ludwig's face for a split second. "That's terrible. I feel awful about what happened."

"Why?"

"It's my responsibility. Most of the members of _Soldaten_ don't have a real reason to be here, but I do. I have an _actual_ reason and so does Alfred. If anything, it should be between us and only us. But then it escalated into this whole thing. Even the third gang doesn't hate either of us as much as _Soldaten_ and the Hawks hate each other."

Feliciano's amber eyes glinted with curiosity. "There's a third gang?"

"Yes," Ludwig responded, pulling his hood back over his head. It was then that Feliciano noticed the symbol that was on the back of Ludwig's jacket. It was the same one Lovino had sewn onto his own coat: two swords, facing each other in parallel lines. Simple but powerful. "It's freezing. Let me walk you home."

It was odd, someone he had only met twice offering to walk him home like this. Feliciano had no way of telling that Ludwig wasn't as terrible as Lovino often said. Who could guarantee that he wouldn't abduct him here and now?

Cautiously, Feliciano turned to look the gang leader in the eyes. "So, there's a third gang? Who are they? Lovino never told me about a third one."

"They go by the name of _Vargar av Is._ They are led by a Swedish man, so naturally he doesn't like to get involved in our situations." Ludwig heaved a heavy sigh. "Sometimes I wish they would, though. We could really use some help once in a while. The Hawks are growing larger and more powerful. Before long…" The German trailed off and shook his head sadly.

"Oh." They stood beside each other for a few more moments, both unsure of what to say. "I would join you, but Antonio and Lovino would kill me if I did. I don't think I could have the skills either."

"I could teach you," breathed Ludwig. Almost instantly, he turned and began walking away.

Feliciano froze. "Wait!" he called. "You said we would walk back to my house together!"

Ludwig faced him and smiled softly. "We are. Your house is this way, right?"

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Mi amigo**_ **(Spanish): My friend**

 _ **Sì**_ **(Italian): Yes**

 _ **Fratello**_ **(Italian): Brother**

 _ **Mi amor**_ **(Spanish): My love**

 _ **Hermano**_ **(Spanish): Brother**

 _ **Scheiße**_ **(German): Shit**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter is sort of a filler chapter, but we have some character development (just a little) on Ludwig. Not much to say here, it's a little short. Enjoy, and I would really appreciate some reviews! Thanks to those who have reviewed so far!**

xXxXx

By the time Feliciano and Ludwig reached the café, the moon had not moved its position very far. The walk only took around fifteen minutes, and the two of them were engaged in interesting conversation the whole time. _Soldaten_ wasn't as much of a brutal group of savages as Feliciano had thought they were, and their leader was far from the monster Lovino had told him about. In fact, he was quite kind, although he seemed to be immune to all effects of the cold.

"I will never understand how you and Lovino survive out here and not get frostbite," the Italian had complained about halfway through their walk. "It's freezing out here." He wrapped his arms around himself tightly.

In response to his comment, Ludwig had cracked the slightest of smiles. "You get used to it," he explained in a monotone.

"That's exactly what Lovino says!" Feliciano had cried, his honey-colored eyes widening, similar to the way a praised child's would.

"Here, then," Ludwig had muttered, shrugging off the jacket that he was wearing. "Take this."

The symbol of the swords made Feliciano feel uneasy. He knew how the symbol was created, sewn onto the back of the clothing, because Elizabeta had done it. When the gangs began to fight more frequently, Elizabeta had offered to do the sewing as she was the only one who knew how. Feliciano remembered how she and Roderich had sat around their kitchen table, designing the symbol and sewing it onto nearly twenty jackets.

"Oh, no. I couldn't possibly. It's yours." _And I have virtually no clue who you are. I've only met you twice, and the first time was in the middle of a panic situation._

Ludwig heaved a heavy sigh and threw the jacket over the Italian's shoulders. "Stop being so cautious," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to hurt you. I am no murderer, nor am I a rapist or an abuser or anything of that sort. You are Lovino's brother and therefore you are an ally of mine."

Feliciano's gaze fell to the cement sidewalk as he realized that the leader was right. " _Grazie,_ Ludwig," he had whispered, wrapping the jacket around himself.

When they reached their destination, Feliciano removed his coat and handed it back over to the German. He shivered as the frigid night air brushed his skin, but he did not complain.

"Thanks again. It's just…really scary for me to walk around at night nowadays."

"Oh, no, I perfectly understand," Ludwig murmured. "It's all right, though. And…" He trailed off after that, his icy eyes widening in what seemed like realization and then closing.

"What?"

The leader forced a painfully fake smile. "It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"It's dumb." However, with a stern glare from Feliciano, Ludwig gave in. "All right. I was going to ask you…"

"Ask me what?"

"I was going to ask you if you would like to join _Soldaten_ ," he blurted, the sentence escaping his mouth in one rushed breath. Silence fell across the two men as the sentence sank into Feliciano's mind. _Join?_ Him?

There…there was no way. Only the bravest of the brave could become members of a gang like this. His whole life, he was always the protected, never the protector. Elizabeta, Lovino, Antonio…everyone he held dear was involved in these perilous activities, and Feliciano could never talk any sense into them. It never mattered how sound his reasons were. They would never listen.

"I…am not sure if I can. I mean…it's so dangerous."

Ludwig met Feliciano's gaze. His eyes were a piercing blue, and they narrowed in a suspicious manner as he looked at the Italian. The attitude in his gaze sent shivers down Feliciano's spine. What was worse was that he didn't know whether it was in a good way or a bad way.

"Like I said," Ludwig muttered, "I could teach you. Plus, Antonio and Elizabeta would be there. You wouldn't be alone. And gang activity is not as dangerous as one might think. At least not in this city."

As peaceful and against war as Feliciano was, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, almost begging him to accept Ludwig's offer. This rival group, these… _Hawks_ had nearly destroyed the last blood relative he had. If it had been worse and Lovino hadn't pulled through, what would he have done?

"I don't know."

Ludwig sighed again. "Here. If it is so hard, then I'll make you a deal. If you are interested, meet me this Friday behind your café. I'll talk to you about it, and if you're willing to accept, we can consider me teaching you the basics. Is that all right?"

"I…" Feliciano shut his eyes tightly, and that was when an image shoved its way to the front of his mind. Ivan was holding his lead pipe, which was soaked and leaking with crimson blood. His jacket was dripping with the substance as well, and his face was spotted with red splatters. Beside him, Alfred was laughing hysterically, but not in a controlled, happy way; it was more of a psychotic and unchained laughter. Behind the two Hawks lay a motionless body, and Feliciano recognized immediately who it was: Lovino.

A sudden rush of anger and determination flowed suddenly through the Italian's veins, threatening to sweep him off his feet. He reopened his glowing amber eyes and looked Ludwig straight in the face.

"All right. I accept your offer."

xXxXx

As Feliciano snuggled deeply into the fleece of his blankets, he pondered over the sanity of the gang members and their leader. What, he wondered, was so special about the pull of the night that they had to risk their lives in order to enjoy it? Were nightly strolls not enough for these fighters? As Ludwig had said, there was no reason for the majority of them to be involved, so why did they waste their time battling those who held no real grudge against them?

Sighing gently, Feliciano shut his eyes and allowed sleep to pull him down into darkness.

 _When the Italian blinked his amber eyes open, he was surrounded by dark walls of concrete. The four barricades closed around him but left the gray, stormy sky exposed. The room was dimly lit, and rain was sprinkling down from the clouds above._

 _Feliciano shook his red hair out of his face and glanced frantically around, like a deer in the headlights. He immediately noticed that the atmosphere was odd and frightening, and the fear quickly transformed to pure dread as he realized that there were figures standing in each of the corners. He couldn't make out who they were, but he could tell by their dark stances that they were not friendly._

 _With a whimper of terror, Feliciano fell back on his behind and scrambled to come up with an escape route. There was only one problem: besides the missing ceiling, there was no exit for the little Italian to use._

 _He gasped loudly and shamelessly as he detected the shadow figures moving closer. As he attempted to fix his gaze on one of the people, he saw that the figures weren't moving – it was the walls._

 _Similar to a high-priced action movie, the walls were closing in on the young Italian. In turn, the figures (which were much scarier to Feliciano than the walls) were creeping in._

 _Feliciano was almost to the point of sobbing as a new, unthreatening shadow flashed into his line of vision. The person dropped right next to him, and with a shuddering breath Feliciano realized that it was his brother._

 _The walls halted._

 _One by one, four more people dropped from the roof above the Italian's head. Antonio, then Roderich, then Elizabeta, then finally Ludwig. The five of them stood proudly above Feliciano, guarding him from the dangers that the shadow figures held._

 _Lovino, Antonio, Roderich and Elizabeta all launched themselves at one of the figures while Ludwig helped Feliciano to his feet. Once he could hold his own Ludwig held out a dagger for the Italian to take. Feliciano widened his eyes in surprise then wrapped his fingers around the handle of the knife._

 _Ludwig gave him a steady nod, but his gaze converted from looking at Feliciano to the sky abov_ _e_ _them. Another shadow figure dropped from the air and flung himself at Feliciano; however, it didn't take long for the Italian to recognize the features of Alfred._

 _Out of instinct, Feliciano's arm flew up and rammed Alfred in the neck with his elbow. The Hawk jerked backward and snarled at Feliciano, preparing to attack. However, the attack was never executed as Ludwig had leapt at him and pinned the other leader to the ground._

 _When Feliciano glanced down at his shoulder, the symbol of_ Soldaten _was sewed intricately to the fabric of his coat._

xXxXx

The days that led up to Sunday were depressingly uneventful. Lovino was still stable in his coma with a slim chance of rising in the next few days. For the first two days, both Feliciano and Antonio took it upon themselves to keep watch over Lovino. However, several nurses and doctors at the hospital had explained to them that it wasn't necessarily healthy for the two of them to stay cooped up in that one room. So, Feliciano and Antonio had limited their visits to two hour-long stays per day. To be quite honest, Feliciano thought it was for the best; they weren't crowding the hospital room all the time and it allowed Lovino's caretakers to get their work done.

Antonio, on the other hand, fretted over his friend every minute of the day. It was always, "Oh, what if no one is by his side and he stops breathing?" or "How do they know he's all right?" Feliciano would have to sit through his panicked phone calls as the Spaniard ranted on and on about how awful the situation was. The Italian would never disagree (the situation was awful, no one could argue with that), but Antonio never seemed to wrap his head around the fact that Lovino was in a hospital. It was the doctors' careers to make sure Lovino didn't die. So far, they were doing a fine job, and Antonio barely understood that he was stable and alive.

When Feliciano woke up on Sunday, a sensation that was an odd mixture of thrill and terror shot down his spine. This was the day he was to meet Ludwig and listen to his lectures on _Soldaten_ and gang activity. He would discover what kinds of weapons they used, what missions they went on, and why they were fighting against their rivals.

His alarm clock read 9:00 a.m. Feliciano had decided against telling Antonio about meeting with Ludwig as he had no clue how his friend would react. Since he wouldn't be able to go see Lovino because of it, Feliciano had told him that he had a dentist appointment and wouldn't be at the hospital.

Feliciano knew, in the back of his mind, that lying to Antonio wasn't a good idea, but what else could he do? Antonio had distinctly expressed his distaste of Feliciano offering to join the gang, and if he found out that Ludwig wanted to recruit him, he would most likely go off on both of them.

The Italian yawned and stretched out his arms, shaking the sleepiness from his system. He threw on a t-shirt and some jeans, along with some boots. Given the cold weather, he would definitely need a coat. He wondered how the gang members fought when it was cold outside and they had no heavy coat to keep themselves warm. The amount of comfort they gave up in order to be a part of this group was astonishing, and Feliciano wasn't sure if he could take those sorts of risks.

Feliciano quickly took a shower and combed out his hair, once again becoming frustrated at the little curl that never stayed where it was supposed to. If he was swift, he could eat breakfast and still get down to meet Ludwig in time.

When the clock displayed 9:55, he finished his breakfast, threw on a coat, and walked down to the closed café. He opened the door and studied the vacant streets around him. Sunday was always so quiet in their city, the complete opposite of what most people would think. It felt rather weird for Feliciano to go to the back of the café, since he only ever did when he was taking out the garbage.

As expected, the leader of _Soldaten_ was leaning up against the cement wall of the building, as far from the dumpster as he could get. His icy blue eyes seemed to glow in the low light, and they narrowed in approval as he noticed Feliciano arrive.

"Hello," greeted Feliciano cautiously.

"Hello," Ludwig echoed, "are you ready to begin?"

 **NO TRANSLATIONS :D**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Just a side note for anyone who was wondering - the names** _ **Soldaten**_ **and** _ **Vargar av Is**_ **are in italics because they are foreign words. Just a reminder.**

 **Also, tomorrow is my last school day before winter vacation, so I will have more time to write, definitely. I'm taking an advanced English course that requires LOTS of essays and responses, so those are sucking up a bunch of my writing time. Do not fear, children, as I will NOT drop this story.**

 **Enjoy!**

xXxXx

"So," began Ludwig, his piercing blue eyes staring right at Feliciano's, "first things first. Obviously, you know there are weapons involved with gang business." A smug look of what was almost amusement settled on his face. "Have you ever held a gun before?"

"Um, n-no...I've held knives, b-but they were only for cooking. I work with fire, but...only for cooking," he finished lamely.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow curiously. "That wasn't the question, Italian. I asked you if you had ever held a gun before."

"Well, Lovino had a BB gun when we were _bambini,_ but he never let me touch it. But I saw him shoot birds with it all the time, and whenever he did there would be _lots_ of blood and it would always make me sad and I would start crying and run to Grandpa so I guess you can say-"

 _"Halt den Mund!"_ Ludwig ordered harshly, raising a hand to silence him. This action was not taken lightly by Feliciano, however; the young Italian took the gesture as a threat. Fearing that the leader would slap him across the face or worse, Feliciano gasped and stepped back suddenly. That caused him to fall flat on his bottom, hitting the ground with an _oomph._ The tall German stood over him and blinked slowly, then extended a hand and helped the Italian to his feet.

"You're hopeless. What will become of you if you are unable to watch a _bird_ die?"

Tears sprung suddenly to Feliciano's amber eyes, and he looked shamefully down at the cement ground. Ludwig was right. What was the point of this? Before he could say anything, Feliciano felt a gloved hand rest on his shoulder.

"Look, Feliciano. I...I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was...how are you supposed to fight _people_ if a dead bird makes you that squeamish?" He sighed gently. "We need to talk somewhere besides here."

At the mention of "somewhere else," Feliciano's eyes lit up. "Ooh, can we go to the park? I love it there. It's so peaceful, but I haven't gotten to go ever since Lovino was hurt. I go there when I'm sad sometimes, but I've been so busy recently. Do you like the park, Ludwig? Have you ever been there bef-"

"This is what I mean! You have to learn to be _quiet!"_ Whenever Ludwig began to yell like that, his eyes would get all bright and murderous. It was the universal look that said, _"If you do not shut your mouth right now, I will destroy you."_

"Eep! Okay, okay, I'll be quiet!"

"You'd better," Ludwig muttered. "All right, then. The park."

xXxXx

The park that lay in the center of the city was not particularly old; it had only been built ten years before, when Feliciano and Lovino were ten years old. When it first opened, Romulus took the twins out for a stroll. They had a wonderful time, at least until Lovino decided it would be okay to throw stones at a group of ducks that were minding their own business in a pond. As per normal, Feliciano began to cry when he witnessed the abuse and clung to his grandfather, sobbing about how innocent the duck was and how it didn't deserve to die like that.

The twins never returned to that park until they were sixteen. The certain orphanage they resided in after their grandfather died had a curfew of ten o'clock for anyone over fifteen, and the two brothers were glad to spend it lounging by the pond and skipping stones.

Once Lovino got involved with gang activity, he stopped visiting the park. He said that it was unnecessary and made no sense. Why should he be sitting in trees and talking with his brother when there was work to be done?

 _It seems theft and murder are more important to you than me,_ Feliciano had thought after Lovino had whole-heartedly stated his opinion. He never said anything, though – it was quite obvious at this point that his brother was not going to change his views on the gang. What Lovino said was what Lovino said; it was set in stone no matter what.

Feliciano, however, never stopped visiting their pond. He would climb into the oak tree that stood proudly beside the pond and stay there for hours, drawing and doing his homework and reading. He would stay until sunset and watch the sky darken and the stars reveal themselves. In that very moment, there was no one in the world but himself, and he wouldn't change it for the world. Even if Lovino had practically abandoned him, Feliciano often preferred his solitary position high up in the oak tree.

The park itself was less of a park and more of an odd area of…well, various things. There were many trees of all sorts, spacious patches of green grass, and ponds and lakes. Sure, it had a few cement paths, but most of the area was covered in vegetation or water. There were dirt pathways as well, but they could be difficult to keep track of, and in turn no one really used them.

No matter what it was, this park was Feliciano's comfort, and he wouldn't give it up for anything.

xXxXx

"Ooh, ooh, Ludwig, look at that squirrel! Do you see it? Do you, Luddy?" Feliciano squealed as the two of them walked swiftly down one of the cement walkways.

"No, I do n-" The German paused and turned to the Italian, narrowing his icy eyes. "What did you just call me?"

There was a very faint flicker of fear that lit up in Feliciano's expression, but it was overcome by his amusement and a teasing smirk. "Luddy," he confirmed. "I called you Luddy."

Ludwig released a frustrated sound that was somewhat similar to a dog's growl, and he continued to walk down the path. "That's ridiculous, Feliciano," he sighed. "There are absolutely _no pet names_ between us, understood? I hardly know you, and even if I did, you are nothing but my apprentice. Hell, you're not even that. You're hardly a recruit."

"But I think it's cute!" the Italian protested, his amber eyes widening with excitement. "You can even call me something! Whatever you want, I won't mind!"

 _"_ How about _'dummkopf?'"_ he muttered under his breath.

"Hmm? What was that?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes dramatically. "Nothing."

"Was that German? Do you speak German?" Feliciano asked excitedly. Ludwig's gaze shifted to the horizon and he let out a tired sigh.

"Yes, I do. I am from Germany. I moved here when I was little. How did you know it was German?"

Feliciano puffed out his little chest proudly. "Because you sounded mean and tough! German is a scary language." Just as Ludwig was about to speak up and defend himself and his nationality, the little Italian continued. "Also because of your accent. Antonio used to have a German friend, you know...I met him once. He said he wasn't German, that he identified as Prussian, but Antonio told me he was actually from Germany. Isn't that silly?"

At the mention of _Antonio_ and _Prussian,_ Ludwig's blue eyes widened so much that Feliciano feared they would fall out of his skull.

Shocked, the Italian continued, "Anyway, I don't remember his name. I don't know what happened to him. He just...kinda disappeared. Maybe he returned to Germany. I'm not sure. Is something wrong?"

It took Ludwig a moment to realize that Feliciano was still explaining himself. Once the German noticed the Italian's words, he shook his head as if trying to rid his head of a thought. "No matter," he muttered, attempting to change the subject. "There are more important issues at hand, Feliciano." He sat down against one of the various maple trees and looked up at Feliciano, his eyes grave. "Tell me...what are you good at?"

The Italian tipped his head to one side, confused. "I can draw," he began tentatively. "I can cook and play the guitar sometimes..."

Feliciano became concerned that he wasn't getting a response from his companion. Ludwig stared at his face for a long moment as if he were attempting to form words in his brain. Finally, he sighed and put his head in his gloved hands.

"No, _dummkopf_ ," he hissed, clearly frustrated beyond belief. "I need something _useful_ when it comes to _gangs._ " Ludwig spoke slowly and clearly, using the tone that a kindergarten teacher would use to explain something to a child. "I already know you have never used a gun before, but what _have_ you done? Can you fight? Can you run? Can you jump from roof to roof _quietly?"_

The young Italian looked up to the azure sky as if he were trying to remember the answer to those questions. Without speaking, he leaned against the tree that was closest to him and slid down it until he reached the grassy ground.

"I can run _really_ fast," he decided on saying. Ludwig raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "No, really! Whenever I competed in races at school, I would almost always win! The only person who has ever beat me is Lovino."

"Good, good," his companion murmured, thinking deeply. "What else?"

"Well, to answer your fighting question, no. But I have been using knives to cook all my life and I'm pretty decent at cutting up things that aren't me."

Ludwig laughed at that, releasing a sincere, deep chuckle. It only lasted a second before he motioned for the Italian to continue.

"Okay, well, I have never tried jumping across rooftops. But I don't weigh very much so it will probably be easy for me. I am not strong, Ludwig, not like you. I can't lift more than one big bag of flour at a time."

The German met his eyes from his position against the maple tree. "That's all right," he reassured Feliciano. "We have specialties in _Soldaten._ You're going to have to learn how to use a gun, of course, but you can have a preferred weapon if you want to. If you're good with knives and you feel comfortable with using them to fight, then go crazy. I've always preferred to use a gun, but I know others do not. My second-in-command, Kiku Honda, has carried around a katana since he first joined, and he's the best at it. You've seen Ivan with his pickaxe and lead pipe, even though he is not one of us. Elizabeta carries around that damn skillet."

Feliciano giggled when Ludwig mentioned his surrogate sister, recalling how she would threaten to whack anyone who came near them with her frying pan. She was good at it, too; Feliciano had seen her hit a variety of objects too many times.

The two of them talked endlessly until into the afternoon. Most of it wasn't even gang related, just things that they asked each other.

"If you could have any pet," started Feliciano at one point, "what would it be?"

Ludwig's eyes shifted to the sky, and he gazed at a single white cloud that was floating high in the sky. "A Dachshund," he murmured softly, a wistful look on his face. "I have always wanted one, but I already have three loyal dogs and there is no need for another."

"Aw. What do you have now?"

"Three big dogs: a Doberman, a Hovawart, and a German Shepherd. What about you?"

Feliciano smiled. "I'm more of a cat person," he clarified. "I've never had a pet before, but I would love to have a cat one day. Lovino won't let me get one because he doesn't think I can take care of them. He's wrong, though. Of course I would take care of my kitten. They're so sweet and cuddly, and they're all the same no matter the breed." He halted, and a confused look settled on his face. "Wait, _are_ there breeds of cats?"

Ludwig smiled genuinely. "Yes, Feliciano," he said, "there are different kinds of cats."

"That's good," whispered the Italian. With that, he rose to his feet. "Well, it was nice meeting with you today, but I ought to get going. I have to go visit my brother before the day is over."

"It's no problem. Meet me here, right at this spot, this Saturday, and we'll start _actual_ training. I'll teach you to shoot. We'll go to an actual shooting range. Sound good?"

Something about thinking of shooting a gun unsettled Feliciano, but he was enjoying Ludwig's company thus far. Besides, it wasn't like he would be _killing_ anyone, would he?

"Yeah, that's great!"

"Then it's settled. And, Feliciano...thank you for bringing me here." Ludwig looked around at the trees and their leaves, then the ground, then the late afternoon sky, then at Feliciano's face. "I've never been here before."

"It's no problem." The Italian turned and began to stroll back down the cement pathway. _"Ciao!"_

xXxXx

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Bambini**_ **(Italian): Children, but can also be used for babies**

 _ **Halt den Mund**_ **(German): Shut up (literally "shut the mouth")**

 _ **Dummkopf**_ **(German): Fool**

 _ **Ciao**_ **(Italian): Goodbye (also hello)**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: A short chapter this week with lots of dialogue. There WILL be more action (and romance :D) as this story continues, but for now, we need some build up.**

 **Enjoy and please review!**

Once Feliciano got back from his visit to the hospital, he decided to make some pasta for himself and eat a decent dinner. It had been while since he had eaten dinner at all, but even longer since he had something that he enjoyed eating. Pasta was one of the Italian's best dishes, and citizens from all over the city would come to his café to order a plate.

The evening passed slowly and smoothly. Feliciano made his supper, grabbed his laptop, and sat down on his couch. He sat quietly and gradually cleared his plate, catching up on all of his social media accounts. The internet seemed so unimportant in the grand scheme of things, just an irrelevant playground for those with no real problems. However, there _were_ other things happening in the world, and Feliciano couldn't bring himself to ignore them.

After he had finished his dinner, the Italian decided to make a cup of tea, get into his pajamas, and go to sleep. He had work the next day, and he hadn't slept very well lately either. However, his day with Ludwig had tired him out both physically and mentally, and seeing Lovino had exhausted him emotionally.

Once Feliciano turned on the kettle, he heard a tapping sound at his kitchen window. He paused, alarmed, and stared intently at the pane of glass until he heard another tap. Feliciano walked hesitantly toward the window, his eyes wide.

Something small, no larger than a bead, shot up from the air below the second-story window. It must have been a pebble, because when Feliciano peered out at the ground, there stood Elizabeta Héderváry, holding a handful of little stones.

The Italian immediately opened the window, bewildered as to what was going on. He stuck his head out, shivering at the chilly night air.

"Hey!" the woman called, her jade green eyes lighting up. "Feliciano! Open your back door! I must talk to you!"

"Elizabeta?" Feliciano cried. "You...are at my house?"

Even from the distance, he could see the Hungarian woman roll her eyes. She smirked, placing a hand on her hip. "Really? So _this_ is your house?" she asked sarcastically, looking up at his window in feigned wonder. "I had no idea!"

Feliciano wasn't fazed by her attitude; he had lived with her for a long while, and this was something he had grown used to and rather fond of.

"Okay, just...stay there."

The Italian opened the door that revealed his back stairwell and switched on the dim light. He never really did like this stairwell, as it was unkept and dirty. The light was an ugly golden color rather than yellow or white, and the actual stairs creaked with the slightest movements. He heaved open the door that led outside and stepped into the night.

Elizabeta immediately tackled him in a hug, her wavy, light brown hair tickling his chin. Feliciano embraced her in return, resting his cheek on her head. Although the Italian was short for a twenty-year-old man, his female friend was tiny, no more than 5'3''. Elizabeta was vicious, however, and she tended to use her size to her advantage whenever she encountered trouble in the streets.

"Feliciano!" she exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in forever! I visited Lovino earlier this morning, and although Antonio was there, you weren't. I asked where you were, and Antonio told me that you had a dentist appointment, so I waited. Sorry for coming this late, though. I could have come earlier, but you know me!" She blinked up at him in embarrassment. "Always absentminded, you know! Anyways, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Sure. Hey, I was just making some tea. Would you like some?" Feliciano offered, leading the Hungarian up the stairwell and into his house.

A soft, sincere smile lit up her face. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

And so, Feliciano poured the two of them cups of tea and added a teaspoon of sugar to each. He handed his friend hers, and his eyes widened as she looked at the cup wistfully.

"What is it? Is there something wrong?"

Elizabeta looked up in apparent surprise, but then shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm fine. It's just...Roderich would always sit down and have tea with me. It's been such a long time since I've sat down and talked with him, as it seems that he's always busy. Even though we're in the exact same gang on the exact same rank, he's always absent whenever I wish to speak with him." She sighed heavily, looking as if she wanted to change the subject. "Anyways, it's not like it's his responsibility to entertain me at this point. It's not like we're together anymore."

The latter sentence was spoken with an air of frustration and longing to it, and there was no way Feliciano was missing it. "Do you still love him?" he asked, curious as to where they stood.

Elizabeta only shrugged, staring down at the mug of tea once more. "I'm not sure. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. There isn't a straightforward answer that I can give you."

Feliciano nodded, although he didn't understand. "Okay, Eliza," he said, "that's fine. It's none of my business anyways."

"Oh, no, don't worry about it. However, I came here to speak to you about a _very_ different matter, _édesem."_ Feliciano was well-acquainted with that term of endearment, but he noticed that Elizabeta's expression had turned grave. She leaned back in her chair slightly and stared the Italian straight in the face. Golden eyes met emerald, and she asked, "Feli, do you know someone named Ludwig?"

What shocked Feliciano more than the actual question was the tone of voice that his friend was using. Rather than sounding intimidating and demanding for an answer, she sounded like a mother trying to coax evidence from her son. Feliciano had never heard Elizabeta use that tone before. Even though she _had_ technically acted as his surrogate mother for a few years, she always treated him and Lovino as her equals, as she was only twenty-six herself.

"I..." The auburn-haired man glanced frantically around his kitchen. "I know that he's the leader of _Soldaten._ " Well, it wasn't a lie.

Elizabeta narrowed her eyes. "Mm-hm. Who told you this information?"

"Lovino." Not a lie either.

His friend released a heavy sigh and took a sip of her tea, thinking carefully. After a few moments of silence, she finally rolled her eyes and continued.

"Feliciano, I'm not going to lie to you; I know that you have met with Ludwig before, and fairly recently. I know that he sees something in you no one else can. I don't know what it is, but I can guess." She shifted forward, her eyes piercing through any protective wall Feliciano might have erected. "You are _angry,_ darling. Angry at Ivan for nearly murdering your brother. Angry at Alfred for organizing the situation. Angry at all the Hawks for even existing. And sweetheart, you are brilliant at hiding it. If I hadn't known you better, I would never have noticed it. What amazes me, though, is how obvious it is to Ludwig. Contrary to what you might believe, our leader was never one for reading emotions." Elizabeta paused for a moment and giggled, as if recalling a sweet memory. "He knows that you are so full of rage, and he realizes that he can recruit you and harness that anger. He will stop at nothing to defeat Alfred, no matter how long it takes him."

As Feliciano listened intently, his amber eyes widened in surprise. "So...he's using my intentions to get what _he_ wants?"

It took the Hungarian a second to answer. She looked around the room, her gaze shifting to and fro before she spoke. "No, not _using._ He is not like that. Ludwig will be more than willing to help you if you ask him to. He's not taking advantage of you in any way, he just...knows that you have power, even if you can't see it yet. While you gain strength and come closer to achieving what it is _you_ want, you become a more valuable member of the gang. So, in turn, _Soldaten_ comes closer to becoming as strong as the Hawks. _Soldaten_ is in dire need of more power, even more so with the...loss...of Lovino, and he sees that you may be a valuable addition to the gang." She sighed again. "I never liked the word _gang,_ you know. We are hardly gangs, and this isn't something that Ludwig will tell you. These organized missions, this _knowledge_ of each other...this doesn't happen in normal street gangs, now does it?"

"I met with Ludwig this morning." Feliciano couldn't keep the words from escaping his mouth. If Elizabeta trusted him with _this_ information, she deserved to know at least that.

However, his friend was smiling, the expression on her face sly and aware. "Oh, I know," she chuckled. "And do you want to know _how_ I know?" Feliciano nodded. "I know because Ludwig visited me _an hour ago._ He said you took him to the park and told him what you could and couldn't do. He told me that you sat there for hours, talking about both gang-related stuff and random things that had nothing to do with violence."

"Yeah. That's what happened." Tears collected in the Italian's eyes. _"Please_ don't tell Antonio," he implored frantically. "He can't know. He tried to keep me from joining."

"Do not worry, little one," Elizabeta murmured, extending a hand to cup Feliciano's soft cheek. "Your secret is safe with me. I just...I just want you to realize that we are not as barbaric as you might believe."

"I know you're not. Ludwig also told me that you're very...distinguishable from each other. You all have your specialties and preferences."

The Hungarian nodded slowly. "Yes, that is correct. It is wise to know how to shoot a pistol and throw some knives, but if you have a weapon that you are more comfortable with, then use it."

"Yes, that is what Ludwig told me."

"He is a good, decent man with sound morals," Elizabeta confirmed, "even if he may seem rather sketchy at first. Do not let his temper scare you off." She finished the rest of her tea and stood, placing the mug in Feliciano's sink. "Well, that is all I had to say to you. I must go now, Feliciano."

The Italian rose to his feet. "Of course, Elizabeta. I understand. Thank you for your advice."

Once again, his friend crushed him in a tight embrace. "Don't sound so formal, sweetheart," she chided. "I'm still your friend, no matter what it is that you choose. And remember that if you _do_ decide to join, I'll be right there beside you if you need me."

xXxXx

When Feliciano's mind had finally calmed down enough for him to go to bed, he curled up tightly beneath his covers and cried. To be quite honest, the young Italian had no idea what he was supposed to do now. Did he join _Soldaten_ and risk his life attempting to get back at Ivan and Alfred, or did he stay home and stay safe? The latter option was the selfish one, of course, but did it really matter? He hardly knew Ludwig, and he hadn't even had a proper conversation with him before a few days ago. Antonio and Lovino didn't even know about it, so they had nothing to lose. Elizabeta clearly stated that she would support Feliciano no matter what he chose. Maybe it was just better to quit and forget about it.

On the other hand, _Soldaten_ needed his help. In the absence of his brother, they were weak by one member, and by what Feliciano had heard, one member was a lot. Could he really just abandon his friends like that?

When the Italian ran out of tears to cry, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

xXxXx

It felt like only a few moments had passed before Feliciano was torn out of unconsciousness and his amber eyes opened. There was an obnoxious, constant beeping sound coming from where his phone was sitting: his ringtone. His bedroom was still pitch black, and when the Italian glared over at his bedside clock, it read 3:47 a.m.

 _Who in their right mind would be calling me at this hour?_ he thought grumpily, forcing himself out of his cocoon of blankets and towards his phone. Wincing at the bright light, he peered at the screen and saw that it was Antonio.

"Yes? Antonio?" he mumbled groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Oh, goodness, Feliciano! It's you! It's about Lovino! He woke up! Oh, _Dios mío_ , he's woken up!"

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Édesem**_ **(Hungarian): Sweetheart**

 _ **Dios mío**_ **(Spanish): My God**


	8. Chapter 7

Oddly, due to still being in his half-asleep state, Feliciano felt devoid of all emotion at first. No relief, no happiness, no nothing at all. The fact that Lovino was awake was...just a fact that had to be acknowledged. He didn't respond to Antonio, but rather just stood there, swaying slightly.

Then, suddenly, the words filtered through to him in a rush of mixed feelings. The shock that shot through his system nearly swept the young Italian off his feet. His big brother, his _fratello maggiore,_ was alive and well, and Feliciano would be able to see him!

"Feliciano?" Antonio asked worriedly. "Are you still there?"

Tears came to the Italian's big amber eyes and he choked out, "Yes. I'm here. Oh, God, Antonio, when am I going to be able to visit him?"

"Now, Feli, you can come now. The hospital called me and told me that Lovino had opened his eyes and was asking for nobody but you." There was a faint hint of disappointment in the Spaniard's voice, but he immediately shoved it down. "He wouldn't even let a nurse come near him, he was so upset. They had to sedate him, but...it was a weak dose, they said it would wear off in an hour or so. Anyways, I told the hospital that I would call you and we would come to see him right away. I'm on my way to your house right now. Would...would it be okay if you closed the café for today?"

The tears that had pooled in Feliciano's eyes had spilled over and were now dripping freely down his cheeks. "Of course," he assured, sniffling.

"I'll be there in a few. Get dressed if you want to; I'm sure they won't mind if you're not and I know you were probably asleep. Do what you want."

Feliciano hurriedly threw on a light T-shirt and some sweatpants and slipped on a pair of shoes. He put on his coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck, then virtually ran outside to wait for Antonio. Before he left his house, he took a piece of paper and wrote, " _TEMPORARILY CLOSED FOR PERSONAL REASONS,"_ on it. He taped it to the front door outside the café and locked the door.

It was only a minute before bright lights were shining in Feliciano's face as Antonio pulled to the side of the road. Before the vehicle even stopped, the Italian opened the passenger's side door and leaped in. Antonio sped off again as soon as Feliciano closed the door behind him.

As he buckled his seatbelt, Feliciano looked over at his Spanish counterpart. His green eyes were wide with anticipation and had dark rings under them from lack of sleep. The dark brown locks that fell over his face were ruffled and messy, and his fingers were clutching the steering wheel with as much force as possible.

Feliciano decided against saying anything; it didn't matter, and he was sure his own appearance wasn't that much prettier.

When they pulled into the hospital parking lot, they picked the first spot they laid eyes on and rushed out of the vehicle. The two of them must have looked ridiculous, sloppily dressed and stressed beyond belief at four in the morning.

"We're here to see Lovino Vargas," blurted out Antonio when they reached the receptionist. "Apparently he has woken up from his coma." She looked quite unnerved at the sight of the two men, but immediately came to her senses and placed down the book she was reading.

"Ah, yes. He has. You're...his brother and his friend, correct?" They nodded. "I've seen you two in here a lot lately. Not much has been going on around here, to be quite honest with you. Someone being in a coma, albeit a short one, is the talk of the town around here."

"I'm sorry, but we have to go," stated Feliciano, turning away.

The receptionist smiled, her blue eyes looking straight into his own. "Yes, of course, I apologize. Good luck, you two, and be gentle with him!"

As Feliciano and Antonio took the elevator up to Lovino's room, the Italian noticed that his friend was trembling violently beside him. He looked as if he had something to hide, and he chewed at his lip nervously, his eyes glued to the floor.

"Hey, Antonio," Feliciano murmured, resting a hand on his shoulder, "it'll be okay. He loves you too."

Antonio's eyes immediately widened, and he snapped his head towards Feliciano, his mouth agape. "He's told you?"

"Well, no..." The Spaniard's eyes instantly went dull again. "But I can see it in his eyes. Lovino doesn't put up with many people." The elevator doors opened and the two men stepped out. "Lovino hates to even _speak_ to most people, but he's let you come over his house almost every day. That's not something everyone else can say."

"I guess not, _poco_ Feliciano. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens."

Just as the Italian opened his mouth to answer, a voice called, "Mister Vargas! Mister Carriedo! Thank goodness!"

It was Lovino's nurse, the short woman with ruffled blonde hair and tired eyes. She ran over to them, grabbing Feliciano by the arms and staring into his eyes. "Your brother was absolutely _hysterical._ He kept calling out for you, asking where you were, asking if someone named Ivan had gotten to you yet." With a gasp, Feliciano turned his head to Antonio, whose jaw had dropped in astonishment. "We had to put him back to sleep, but...he just woke up a few minutes ago. The only thing that kept him calm was the fact that you were coming to see him. You have to come now!"

Feliciano kept his eyes locked on his friend, who met them with a clear gaze that showed nothing but complete understanding. "Go on, Feliciano," he whispered, petting the Italian's hair. "Go see your big brother. I'll wait out here." To prove his point, Antonio took a seat on the bench that was attached to the wall.

Without a second thought, Feliciano raced into the Lovino's room. He slowed himself before coming into his brother's vision, as he wasn't sure how he would react to his presence. As he finally walked fully into the room, he noticed that Lovino was lying on his side, facing the window. The curtains were drawn, and he looked as if he were staring up at the night sky; however, his gaze was cloudy and unfocused, and Feliciano could tell that his brother was not present.

"L-Lovino?" he called out softly, staring at his face.

Slowly, Lovino's eyes cleared, and he raised his head to look at his brother. His expression instantly turned from blank to amazed, and he looked more shocked than his younger brother had ever seen him before.

"Fel...Feliciano."

Said man burst into tears on the spot. His voice was so _different._ Gone was the usual annoyed tone of voice, replaced with a bewildered whisper. The scar on his forehead was red and tender, and Feliciano could see _so many bruises_ dappling the rest of his skin. His arms were still wrapped in white bandages. All of his wounds appeared so much worse now that Lovino was awake and staring him in the face.

" _Fratellino..._ what is wrong? What happened?"

Feliciano was incapable of forming correct English (or Italian, for that matter), so he spoke with actions instead. He rushed over to his brother and threw his arms around him, staying mindful of the injuries that dominated his body. Feliciano felt so much reassurance in the warmth that seeped through the thin hospital gown, and he buried his face in the shoulder of Lovino. He wept even harder when he felt his twin wrap one arm around his waist and pulled him against himself, while the other hand wove its way through his sibling's auburn locks of hair.

"Feliciano...what happened to me?"

His younger brother removed his face from Lovino's shoulder and looked his straight in the face. "You don't remember?"

Lovino shifted, then groaned as his wounds were disturbed. "Remember what?"

"Ivan _attacked_ you on the way to the meeting?" A blank stare. "Alfred _found_ us? Then Ludwig rescued us?" No response. "You were hurt. Badly. Do you really not remember?" A streak of hot panic spread throughout Feliciano's body.

"Meeting?" grumbled the older Italian. "For work?" Before Feliciano could respond, he added, "Who's Ludwig? Sounds German." With a smirk, he leaned back and rested his head against his propped-up pillows. "I despise the Germans."

Looking around to make sure no nurses were around to hear him, Feliciano came in close to his brother and whispered, "You're in a _gang,_ brother. _Soldaten._ Ludwig is your leader and he saved your life."

A flicker of Lovino's old self flashed through his eyes, but it was only because he looked annoyed and doubtful. "Yeah, right, a gang. Not only that, a gang led by a German. Do you think I would let myself be paraded around by a German?"

"It's true. And, besides that, there is something I have to tell you..."

"Mister Vargas?" At the mention of their names, both Feliciano and Lovino looked up at the nurse. She quickly realized her mistake and corrected herself. "Er...I mean, Lovino. There's someone else here to see you. May he come in?"

"Someone else?" Lovino spat, his gaze locked on the pure white sheets of his hospital bed. "Who else would visit me? Feliciano is the only relative I have." He threw an arm around his brother's thin shoulders rather protectively.

"No, no, Lovi," said Feliciano, "he's a friend. Your _best_ friend, in fact."

"I have no friends. No one has ever wanted to be my friend before."

 _Maybe if you just see him,_ thought Feliciano, _then you would remember your dear Antonio._

"Send him in," ordered the younger twin. The nurse nodded in response, looked out of the door, and made a gesturing motion with her hands into the room. Antonio stepped, rather tentatively, into the small room, his green eyes filled with joy.

"Oh, _mi guapo tomate,_ you're awake!" Feliciano had never witnessed his friend this happy before, and it made him realize that everything was going to be all right.

At least, everything _would have_ been all right, if Lovino hadn't answered Antonio with, "Who the hell are you?"

Both Antonio's and the nurse's faces fell instantly. The Spaniard opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Eventually, he whispered, "What do you mean?"

Lovino's spiteful eyes narrowed. "You sick bastard, I've never seen you before in my life! What disgusting trick are you trying to pull on me? Feliciano, who is this asshat?"

Taken aback by his twin's sudden burst of curses, it took Feliciano a moment to provide him with an answer. "He's...Antonio Carriedo. He's your best friend. The best one you've ever had."

"You're mistaken."

A heavy blanket of stunned silence fell over the four inhabitants of the room. "What can you remember?"

Without even blinking, the Italian looked his brother in the eyes. "My name is Lovino Vargas and I am twenty years old. You are Feliciano, my little brother. We run a café together. Our parents are dead, our grandfather is dead, and we spent eighteen years at an orphanage. I feel like someone else took us in, but...I don't remember who they were." His gaze hardened and he shot daggers at Antonio. "This man holds _no_ place in my life!"

Antonio's expression instantly crumbled into a stunned emotion, and he backed away from the bed. "Lovino..." he whispered, then turned and speedwalked out of the room.

"Good riddance," the Italian hissed.

Feliciano faced his sibling in complete and utter shock. "Lovi, you-"

"May I find out what is going on?" the nurse interrupted sharply. "Mister Va-I mean, Feliciano, maybe you want to find out where Mister Carriedo went? Lovino, may I ask you a few questions?"

The Italian huffed. "Do what you want, but don't expect much else."

In response to the nurse's request, Feliciano told his brother that he'd be back, leapt out of the bed, and jogged down the hallway, his eyes scanning every inch of the hospital for his lost Spanish friend.

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Fratello maggiore**_ **(Italian): Older brother**

 _ **Poco**_ **(Spanish): Little**

 _ **Fratellino**_ **(Italian): Little brother**

 _ **Mi guapo tomate**_ **(Spanish): My handsome tomato**


	9. Chapter 8

"Excuse me, miss," Feliciano said frantically as he approached a lady who was filing papers at her desk. "Did you see a man walk by here? He's about two inches taller than me, and he has brown hair and olive skin. His eyes are green and he was wearing a red jacket."

The woman simply stared up at the Italian for a few moments, obviously attempting to pick apart his rambling and form them into proper words. She opened her mouth and looked around for a few seconds.

"Please, miss, I need to know where he went."

The lady nodded and looked up at Feliciano. "Of course, sir. I _believe_ I saw him. He went into the elevator, I think. With the few people who are actually walking around here at this time of day, I'm sure it was who you're searching for. However, he was walking quite fast and I didn't really acknowledge him, so I can't tell you for sure."

Feliciano gazed towards the elevator. It made sense; if Antonio was upset, the best option would be for him to get away from Feliciano and Lovino as soon as he could. It was a definite possibility.

"Oh, _grazie!"_ he cried, jogging to the elevator. If he moved quick enough, he could probably still catch his friend.

"No problem, young man."

Feliciano hopped onto the elevator and hurriedly pressed the button that would take him to the first floor. He doubted that Antonio actually _left_ the hospital grounds. The Spaniard didn't usually run from his problems like this, and he didn't think he would leave Feliciano without a ride home.

When he arrived at the first floor, he ventured into the lobby and towards the receptionist that they had talked to when they first entered the building. He spotted her head of blonde hair almost instantly, and ran up to her desk.

"Have you seen Antonio?" Feliciano asked, not bothering to say "excuse me," or "I need your help." The receptionist raised her eyebrows in surprise, then nodded after a moment of thought.

"Yes, Mister Carriedo walked out the door. I don't know where he went, but he did seem to be upset over something. Is everything all right?"

"I don't know yet. There's something up with Lovino. Thank you, but I can't talk right now."

"I understand. Good luck!"

 _There was no way Antonio would have gone! It was so unlike his character to just up and leave like that,_ fretted Feliciano as he pushed open the heavy entrance doors. He stepped outside, frantically glancing around. With a jolt of relief, he realized that his black car was still parked in the parking lot.

It was in that moment that the Italian heard a soft sniffling noise. When he turned his head to find the source of the sound, he noticed Antonio, sitting hunched over on a bench with his face in his hands.

"Antonio!" Feliciano cried, jogging over to him. The Spaniard wasn't _sobbing,_ but he had tears in his eyes and a few dry ones on his cheeks. "What's wrong, _amico mio?"_

His friend snapped his head upwards to glare deeply into Feliciano's eyes. "What's wrong? What's _wrong?_ What's _right?_ Lovino was asleep for the past few weeks, and now that he's back, he doesn't remember me! I was going to _confess_ to him when he woke up!" With that, Antonio's eyes flooded with tears and they spilled over his cheeks. He placed a hand over his mouth and wept, leaning into Feliciano as the Italian took him into his arms.

"I'm sorry," the Spaniard whispered, sighing deeply. "I shouldn't have run away like that. I'm just...I don't want Lovino to push me away like that. For the past few years, I've been trying endlessly to try and get him close to me, and just when I think I have a chance, he..."

"It'll be okay, Antonio," the Italian muttered, nuzzling his face into Antonio's dark hair. "There's no need for you to be upset. The doctors are going to find out what is wrong with Lovino and fix it. Like I said, it'll all be okay in the end."

In reality, Feliciano wasn't sure about who he was trying to convince more: Antonio or himself.

xXxXx

Antonio and Feliciano were ordered home by the doctors. They had to run several tests that would take the majority of the day, and they didn't want either of the two around, as they might affect test results. Even after Feliciano invited him in for coffee, Antonio refused to spend time with him, saying that he wanted to be alone for a while. Feliciano agreed, and told him to rest and have something to eat once he got home, and told him that he was always welcome to come over if he needed someone to talk to.

Thus, the young Italian was left on his own with nothing to do but worry. He couldn't open the café, even if it was almost eleven o'clock, because he had called the rest of his workers and told him he had business that he needed to attend to.

With a jolt, Feliciano remembered Ludwig's suggestion for them to start training. Their _actual_ training, with real weapons that had the ability to take a life in a matter of seconds. He didn't feel like shooting a gun today, but perhaps Ludwig would be nice to have a conversation with. After all, they _were_ friends, weren't they?

So, he called up the gang leader and waited for a few moments. He thought that Ludwig wouldn't answer, but he picked up the phone after ten seconds.

"Who is this?" the German ordered roughly, suspicion seeping into his voice.

"It-it's me, Ludwig, I-"

"Feliciano?" he questioned. His tone immediately dropped from cautious to bewildered. "How are you calling me?"

"With a phone," he giggled. Feliciano could practically _see_ Ludwig's disapproving smile. "All right, sorry. I need to talk to someone. You gave me your phone number, remember? Yesterday."

The other man sighed from over the line. "Yes, I suppose I did. I apologize for forgetting like this. I thought we agreed on meeting again this Saturday. Is something wrong?"

Before he could stop himself, the Italian blurted out, "Lovino woke up." The line went dead for a few moments, and the silence caused Feliciano to fret that Ludwig had hung up. "Ludwig?"

"Sorry. That's great, Feliciano."

"No, it's not great, Ludwig. I...why don't you come over? It's still early enough to have some midday coffee if you're interested. I never did get to pay you back for taking me to the park."

"You don't have to repay me anything," his friend muttered. Before Feliciano could interject, he continued, "But if that's what you believe, and it's the only way to find out why Lovino waking up is a bad thing, then yes. Some coffee would be nice."

 _"Bene!"_ Feliciano cried, grinning brightly. "You know where I am."

"Yes, of course. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Sounds great!" trilled Feliciano. "See you then!"

xXxXx

Feliciano knew that Ludwig didn't know of his back door, even though he'd been behind the café. So, in turn, he walked down into the actual café and waited on the doorstep for his friend to arrive. It was a good fifteen minutes before Feliciano saw any sign of the German, but he soon noticed a tall figure walking down the street.

"Ludwig!" he called, waving his arms up and down. "I'm over here! _Buon pomeriggio!_ "

His friend approached him steadily, the stoic expression plastered on his face softening into a gentle smile. _"Guten Tag,_ Italian."

"Ooh, what does that mean?" Feliciano ordered, jumping up and down.

"The same as ' _buon pomeriggio',_ " he elaborated.

Feliciano's amber eyes lit up instantly. "You speak Italian?" he gasped, his jaw dropping.

Ludwig let out a huff of laughter that was nearly silent. "No. I just know what that one phrase means."

"Oh. Well, good afternoon, Ludwig!" he greeted again, leaning up to kiss both of his cheeks. It was a traditional Italian greeting, but it seemed like Ludwig didn't know that, as he blushed redder than Feliciano had ever seen.

"Wh-what was that for?" he stuttered, reaching up to the spot where the Italian's lips had touched.

Feliciano tipped his head to one side, looking up at the German with wide eyes. "What do you mean? Is that not how you say hello in Germany?"

"N-not necessarily," Ludwig murmured, glancing shyly at the ground.

"Ah, well, I apologize then," whispered Feliciano.

His friend raised his head once more, smirking. "It's fine."

Feliciano regained his smile. "Okay! Then let's go drink coffee!"

The Italian led Ludwig into his café and sat him down at the bar. He ran behind the table and turned on the coffeemaker. As he pressed the _brew_ button, he turned to Ludwig and smiled.

"I've never seen you in here before," he mused. "If you knew Lovino, how come you never stopped by for a bite to eat?"

"Well, I guess I just never thought to. I'm busy a lot of the time."

His friend smiled softly. "I understand. Where do you work?"

"At one of the restaurants downtown. I work the bar."

"Ah, like me!" Feliciano giggled, taking the pot of coffee out from underneath the coffeemaker. "Just kidding. I do a bit of everything around here, but I mostly cook. Do you like anything in your coffee?"

Ludwig shook his head. "No, thank you, Feliciano. Black is fine."

"All right, here you are." He handed the mug of coffee to Ludwig and turned around to put cream and sugar in his own.

"So," began Ludwig, "tell me about Lovino, and why it's a bad thing that he woke up today."

The happy glow that had situated in Feliciano's eyes instantly dulled, and the smile dissolved into a frown. "Well..." He stirred his drink, walked around the table, and sat beside Ludwig. "He woke up early this morning, and apparently he was hysterical because he wanted to see me. So Antonio and I went to the hospital, and I saw him first. He was fine." Feliciano glanced up at Ludwig, who was watching him with interest, his icy blue eyes boring into the Italian's face.

"He remembered exactly who I was, and the café. But...when Antonio came in, he cursed and yelled at him, claiming that he had never met him in his entire life. He has limited recollection of his life before he went into his coma. He has no clue who you are, Ludwig, nor Elizabeta or anyone else. Only me. It's weird."

He paused to take a sip of his coffee, and he noticed that Ludwig was still glaring at him. "What?"

The German shook his head quickly, his expression still full of disbelief. "That's...terrible. That's so odd. A coma _and_ amnesia?"

"Apparently so."

"So...he's never going to come back to _Soldaten?"_ Ludwig asked.

Feliciano shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Ludwig closed his eyes, resting his elbow on the table. "If he doesn't, there will be a huge loss to our gang. He is a valuable member to us, and there are so few of us now..." His gaze became more vague and he put his head in his hands. "I will not force him to come back after all he's been through. If he does not remember me, there is little chance he will return. Sometimes...sometimes I think it would be safer for all of us if we just surrendered to The Hawks. They are so many, and we..."

The leader sighed heavily, leaning against the table. "I'm sorry, Feliciano, I didn't mean to make this conversation about me."

"No, no, it's all right. If it makes you feel any better, I'm seriously considering joining you guys. I'm no Lovino when it comes to confidence, but...it sounds like you guys need someone."

As he said this, Ludwig's eyes widened. "Oh, Feliciano...thank you," he whispered, locking eyes with the Italian.

"No problem. And remember, we still have this Saturday."

The German smiled sincerely, resting a warm hand on Feliciano's thin shoulder. "Yes, we do. I'll get to see how you function in the presence of weapons. That will be quite the experience." Feliciano didn't respond, just grinned and took another sip of his coffee.

"For the record, Feliciano," he continued, "I refuse to let anyone hurt you. You are so small, so vulnerable without proper training. When we are out on the streets, do _not_ pick fights. You are unprepared for that. Just remember that no one will so much as lay a finger on you as long as I am there."

Even though Feliciano knew he should have taken offense to being called "small" and "vulnerable", all he felt was a strong rush of compassion. He feIt so warm, so happy, so protected in Ludwig's presence, and now he had his word at he would protect Lovino's brother until the end. In response to the oath, Feliciano extended his arm. "Pinky promise?" he implored, his eyes wide and sad.

Ludwig stared at the other man for a few long moments, then reached out his own hand and locked his pinky finger with Feliciano's. "Pinky promise," he echoed.

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Grazie**_ **(Italian): Thank you**

 _ **Amico mio**_ **(Italian): My friend**

 _ **Bene**_ **(Italian): Good**

 _ **Buon pomeriggio**_ **(Italian): Good afternoon**

 _ **Guten Tag**_ **(German): Good afternoon/Good day**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: I am so, so sorry that this update took a bit longer than I planned. School was insane this week, and since this story is starting to pick up a little bit, I have to find out how I want to go about writing it. Nothing too eventful today, though. There's a cute Germany/Italy scene at the end for making you guys wait a few extra days. Enjoy.**

The German and the Italian kept up their peaceful chatter for another half hour before Ludwig announced that he needed to get going. He had to be at work at five o'clock, he said, and his boss wasn't one for him being late. Before he allowed Ludwig to leave, Feliciano wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a farewell embrace. When the Italian felt his friend's body stiffen, he realized for the first time how different the two were when it came to physical contact. He released Ludwig with an apology and moved to pick up their empty coffee cups.

As Ludwig made his way towards the door of the café, Feliciano called out for him and said, "This Saturday, you and me. We're still going to the shooting range, right? This meeting didn't replace it?"

His friend turned and looked him in the eyes, cerulean meeting amber for one long moment. "Of course," he reassured Feliciano. "This Saturday. I'll show up at around...noon. I'll see you then." Then, before the Italian could even utter a farewell, Ludwig was gone.

"...Bye," he murmured.

As Feliciano washed the two mugs in his sink, he noticed how alone he was now that Ludwig had left. He was never a solitary kind of person, but now that he thought about it...he began missing Ludwig as soon as he had said he had to go.

The Italian honestly had no clue about what Lovino had told him about the German not being a good leader. Didn't he have everything a leader needs? He _looked_ strong, that was for sure, and the way he spoke gave him an intelligent, stoic air. He was... _handsome,_ to say the least. To Feliciano, all people were beautiful; men and women, people from every country, people from every race...but there was no denying that his friend held a natural, eye-catching appearance to him that the Italian could not ignore. He didn't seem like someone who was all about looks, either. Feliciano didn't think that Ludwig thought he was higher than anyone else just because of how he looked.

Feliciano would get to see how he handled weapons this weekend, but there were no apparent flaws in this man that demanded a new leader. What was so terrible about him that he could not see?

With a heavy sigh, Feliciano placed the two mugs back in the cabinet and retreated upstairs.

xXxXx

It was late into the afternoon of the next day when Feliciano heard any word of what was going on with Lovino. It was six-thirty at night and the Italian had just locked up the café for the day. He had had a busy day, as nearly all of his customers were making up for the visits they lost when the café was closed.

Feliciano was content with taking a shower, making himself some dinner, and going to sleep, but the ringing that went off on his phone prevented him from doing any of those things. He was slightly irritated at first, as he thought the caller must have been a telemarketer or such, but when he glanced down at the screen, he realized it was the complete opposite.

Without a second thought, the Italian hit the answer button and brought the phone to his ear, anxiously waiting for the other end to speak.

"Hello, is this Feliciano Vargas?" came from the other end of the phone. The man's tone was unemotional and monotone, and said Italian was somewhat afraid to answer. "Hello?"

"Y-yes, I am Feliciano," he assured the man. "What is it?"

"Hmph, well, I am Dr. Oliver, and it seems your brother has had an...interesting turn of events in his recovery."

The Italian already knew where this was going. "Amnesia," whispered Feliciano, his gaze falling to the floor.

"Well, yes," said the doctor, seemingly stunned, "amnesia. But it seems to be very mild. Mister Vargas has a strong willpower, though, and I feel he will not be very apt to learn what he has forgotten."

Feliciano sighed, slightly frustrated with his older sibling's stubbornness. "That's Lovino. He's always been that way, overprotective and cautious. I think it comes from us losing our parents at such a young age, and then our grandfather..."

"I am sorry to hear that, Mister Vargas. But I have called you to discuss what can be done to solve this issue. I, along with several other doctors, believe it would be best if your brother underwent a series of trust exercises-"

Feliciano tilt his head to the side, bewildered. "Trust exercises? Like that thing where you fall back and the other person is supposed to catch you?"

Dr. Oliver paused, then released a hearty laugh. "No, not like those. What we're talking about is mental exercises. We do this a lot with amnesia patients. They're always so unwilling to remember what they have forgotten, so untrusting of people around them. So...we're going to have to keep your brother here for a few more weeks to carry out the procedures, and maybe another to introduce his past life."

"Oh..." The Italian was so sure that his brother would be home in no time. He was shocked beyond belief; he had never heard of that process, but if it was a doctor telling him that was what needed to happen, then he wasn't going to argue. "I guess that's okay."

"Thank you," the doctor muttered, seemingly satisfied with the conversation. "If you wish, you may pay him a visit now, but as soon as the procedures begin, we will have to deny you seeing him."

 _"What?"_ Feliciano nearly shouted the question. "You didn't say anything about that! He remembers _me_ , though, so why does it make a difference if he sees me? How long did you say it would take? A few weeks? If I'm not going to see my brother, who just woke up from a _coma,_ for that long, then I'm going to have to refuse your proposition, sir."

Feliciano could tell that the doctor was shocked by the rage that had taken over the Italian. There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments, then the doctor spoke up.

"Mister Vargas, I realize this will be a difficult thing to go through, but would you rather have your brother be discontent with knowing he's forgotten a portion of his life, or would you wait a few weeks and let him recover?"

The Italian had never been so reluctant to answer a question before in his life. Before he gave the doctor his final answer, he thought long and hard about Lovino. What would truly be the best option for him? And Antonio...Feliciano didn't want his long-time Spanish friend to become distant to them because Lovino was bitter to him now. Feliciano shut his eyes tightly and sighed deeply.

"All right, then. Just let me come and say goodbye first."

xXxXx

Feliciano held tightly onto his brother, nuzzling his face into the elder's neck. He breathed in the scent of Lovino deeply, knowing very well that this would be the last time they would be seeing each other for a while.

"I cannot believe these cocksucking bastards are forcing us apart like this," Lovino hissed harshly. "They think this treatment will actually work, now do they? I'll be proof that it won't."

The younger twin removed his head from Lovino's shoulder and looked deep into his hazel eyes, which were filled with raging fire. _"Fratello,_ think about it. All you have forgotten, you can get back! We'll just be separated for a week or two, and then you'll be cured! It will be amazing. Everything will be back to normal."

Lovino pulled his brother in for a final embrace. "I hope so. I just...I'm afraid of losing you. You're my little brother, but...I trust you, Feliciano. If you say this will make our lives better, then I guess I have no choice but to believe you."

Tears pooled in Feliciano's eyes, spilled over, and ran down his cheeks. "Thank you. I promise that this is the right choice."

The twins sat, in each other's arms, until a doctor entered the room and asked if they were almost finished saying goodbye. Wordlessly, Feliciano and Lovino loosened their grips on each other and pulled apart.

"I'll see you in a few weeks. I love you, Lovino."

"I love you too, _il mio fratellino."_ It was one of the few times Lovino had said that to his sibling.

Antonio had decided not to come and bid farewell to Lovino, as he didn't want to upset the Italian and disturb the brothers' goodbyes. Feliciano told him he would be welcome, but deep inside, he agreed with the Spaniard. Lovino obviously wanted nothing to do with his former friend. It was better that they stayed away from each other for a while so Lovino would be less stressed before he went to his treatment.

 _"Ciao."_

xXxXx

The remainder of the week passed with a blur. Feliciano felt numb inside, like there was nothing in the world that could make him happy or even angry. He was emotionless, unable to care about what he felt and too tired to do anything about it. So, he got up every day, went to work, came off from work, made dinner, took a shower, and went to bed. In his mindset, the more routinely he went about his days, the quicker they would fly by and he would be able to see his brother.

And fly by they did. Before Feliciano knew it, it was Friday evening and the Italian realized that he didn't have to work the next day. He went to sleep without a second thought, thinking about the lazy days he would be able to enjoy over the weekend.

When he woke up, it was already 11:30 in the morning. The sun shone high in the sky, but Feliciano was feeling more depressed than ever. He was missing his brother more than he ever had when he was in a coma, and the deep, solid emotion of loneliness settled in the pit of his stomach. Tears were flooding his eyes before he knew it, and soon he was sobbing into his pillow.

No matter how hard he tried to stop, the sadness wouldn't leave him alone. His sobs would subside for a minute or two, and then he would recall some sweet memory of his twin and he would continue weeping.

It wasn't until around noontime that the Italian remembered, with a jolt, that he was supposed to meet Ludwig _now._ They were supposed to go shooting, but now that Feliciano thought about it, he really wasn't in the mood to go anywhere. All he yearned for was to just stay in bed and wallow in his own misery.

But alas, Ludwig wasn't even aware of Lovino going into treatment, unless Antonio told him. At precisely 12:05, Feliciano heard a faint knocking at his back door and decided he might as well tell his mentor what was going on. He wiped the tears from his big golden eyes and didn't even bother to put on proper clothes before making his way down to his back door.

"Feliciano?" Ludwig questioned the moment the Italian opened the door. He took in the sight of the man, still dressed in his pajamas, with red eyes and ruffled hair. "Are you okay? Do you still want to go train?"

The only response Feliciano gave him was a fresh round of tears. He buried his face in his small hands, a poor attempt to hide from the tall man in front of him. "I-I can't."

Ludwig, on the other hand, had absolutely no clue as to what was going on. His charge had just...started _sobbing_ as soon as he asked him what he wanted to do. The only thing the German was capable of doing at that one moment was placing one hand on the Italian's shoulder.

"Are...are you okay, Feliciano?"

"I..." Feliciano choked on his own words, unable to form proper words. He looked shamefully at the floor, tears falling gently to the ground. "C-can I hug you?"

Ludwig looked completely and utterly shocked, and in response, he nodded slowly and held out his arms. The taller man couldn't remember the last time he hugged someone, let alone someone other than his brother.

Feliciano went into his arms willingly, his tears soaking the fabric of Ludwig's jacket. He clutched the gang leader harshly, burying his face into his hard shoulder. It was a few long moments before Ludwig returned the embrace and wrapped his arms around the shivering Italian.

"Tell me what's wrong, Feliciano." He rested his cheek on the top of the man's head and felt his auburn hair against his skin.

"I w-will, I just..." Then he dissolved into sobs again, nuzzling into his chest and beginning to tremble.

And there the two stayed for a long while, in each other's arms behind one of the town's most popular cafés, shivering in the cold air but unwilling to move inside.

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Fratello**_ **(Italian): Brother**

 _ **Il mio fratellino**_ **(Italian): My little brother**

 _ **Ciao**_ **(Italian): Goodbye**


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, I'm going to start to jump around some in this fanfic, just to get some more point-of-views in. I know the "antagonist" part of the story hasn't been fully explained or really shown, so I'm going to try to work on that. Plus I have to work on Ludwig and Feliciano's relationship, him getting accepted into the gang, more of the third gang, etc.**

 **Also, Brutus (a side character introduced in this chapter) is not a Hetalia character, just some guy I made up for the fanfiction. I saved the Nations for being gang members. As you can see, there are a LOT of aspects of this story that I need to cover, so stick with me.**

xXxXx

 **Alfred's apartment, Friday night**

xXxXx

 _Maybe if I finally get this freaking game downloaded I can give it a shot,_ the leader of the Hawks thought, irritated. Although he was the headstrong leader of a fierce street gang, he was still only nineteen, and there were still a variety of simple things that he enjoyed.

However, Alfred didn't even get to insert the game into his Xbox before a knock on his front door interrupted him. Frustrated, the blond rose to his feet and strode towards the front of his apartment.

 _Friday evening and someone knocks on my door. I swear to God, if it is someone trying to sell me something, I am going to rip their heads off of their sorry, pathetic bodies._ As he opened his door, ready to chase whoever it was away, he was met with the faces of Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy.

Before he could even greet his comrades, Arthur blurted out in a smooth British accent, "We have news."

Alfred stared at his second-in-command blankly, his brain not quite registering the words. "Hello to you, too," he said, looking him straight in the face.

"I'm not going to deal with your attitude right now, Alfred," Arthur retorted as the young leader stepped aside to let the two into his apartment. "This is serious business."

The American narrowed his eyes at the man with the British accent. "And what makes you think you can speak to me like that?"

"Oh, can it, idiot. I practically raised you." It was true; although Alfred was of a higher rank than Arthur was, he was still five years older than him and was a huge influence in his upbringing.

Francis stepped forward, pushing himself between the two arguing men. "Could we possibly be able to talk about what we actually _came_ here for?" he asked, his sapphire eyes shining with annoyance.

Alfred stepped back from the two of them, motioning towards his sofa. "You're right, Francis," he mumbled, something Arthur would have killed himself before saying. "Have a seat and we can discuss this news."

Once Arthur and Francis were sat on his couch and Alfred had laid back in one of his chairs, the Brit wasted no time in saying, "We have heard that our organized ambush last week was extremely effective when it came to one of our targets. Lovino Vargas was supposedly hospitalized and fell into a coma. Rumor has it that he has amnesia as well. It is extremely likely that since he has no recollection of his past life, he will fall out of _Soldaten_ permanantly."

The leader of the Hawks looked up, his blue eyes filled with interest. "Ah, I see why that is important. One less member of _Soldaten_ is a significant loss to them, now isn't it?"

Arthur and Francis shared a doubtful expression on their faces. Francis cleared his throat, and then announced, "But that isn't all there is to this news. Natalya took it upon herself to try and find more out about the situation. And as it seems, Ludwig has been meeting with someone she thinks is a new recruit."

Alfred gasped audibly. "Really?" His eyes widened and his mouth fell agape.

"Yes, it seems so. Natalya says he looks similar to Lovino, but she has never seen him before yesterday."

Alfred looked down, thinking deeply. "I wonder if he is who I think he is...why didn't you get Natalya to come with you?"

"She said she couldn't be here," said Arthur, shrugging.

"Dammit. Well, why don't we wait to discuss this until she is available? There is something that has to be done, something I've been preparing, but I suppose I can wait until I gather this new information."

xXxXx

When Feliciano had finally stopped crying, he hid in Ludwig's jacket, keeping his face pressed against his shoulder. The leader, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable with the physical contact.

"Feliciano," he whispered, grabbing the Italian by the shoulders and pushing him gently away from himself, "why don't we go inside and you can tell me what's wrong."

Feliciano sniffled, wiping tears from his eyes. "O-okay. I'm sorry for being like this. You're probably so disappointed with me."

"No," Ludwig whispered, but said nothing else. The Italian turned and walked up the stairs, his shoulders shaking. The German had no choice but to follow the man into his house.

"Come and sit down," said Feliciano softly, "and I'll tell you what happened."

Now extremely concerned, Ludwig trailed after the Italian and sat beside him on his sofa. Feliciano folded his hands and stared at them for a few moments, then sighed and began to explain himself.

"So...you know that Lovino woke up with amnesia." Ludwig nodded, listening intently at his explanation. "Well...the hospital called me and asked me what I intended to do to help him recover. Before I could come up with an idea, they said that the best choice would be for him to go into treatment, and...he has to be separated from me while he's there."

Ludwig's eyes widened. "How long is the treatment going to last?"

"Weeks," choked Feliciano, his eyes filling with tears once more. "It's going to be weeks before I see him again."

"I'm sorry."

The Italian sighed deeply. "It's not your fault."

Ludwig reached over and patted Feliciano on the shoulder, then on his head. "Do you still want to go shooting?" When his companion didn't respond right away, he continued, "We don't have to, not if you don't want. We can go tomorrow, or..."

"This is all the Hawks' fault!" Feliciano spat, slamming his hands down harshly on his knees and releasing a choked sob. "I _have_ to train. I _have_ to join you. There's no way I'm going to let them get away with hurting Lovino and I like this!"

A bit put off by Feliciano's sudden rage, Ludwig leant slightly away from him. "All right. You're very welcome to be with us."

His throat tight with grief and anger, the Italian confirmed, "I will. I will join you. I want to go shooting."

xXxXx

"So, Feliciano," began Ludwig just before they entered the shooting range, "I am aware that you have never held a gun before. Do you have any idea of how they work or what you need to do to shoot one?"

Feliciano glanced awkwardly to the side, knowing very well that the answer to both of those questions was _no._ "I...I know that you pull the trigger and a bullet comes out." Before Ludwig could even think about facepalming, he added, "I also know that they are very forceful and you need to be careful when you shoot one, or you might get hurt."

The German looked at him, narrowing his eyes. "You aren't wrong about any of those things," he clarified, "but you have a lot to learn. I used to come here all the time when I was learning, so I know the people here. They'll help you out."

"So they...they don't know that you're... _in a gang?"_ the Italian whispered, moving in close to him so no one could hear his question.

Ludwig shook his head. "No, and if you say _anything_ about that topic while we are in here, I will wring your throat. Now let's go."

Looking around, Feliciano took in his environment. The walls of the building were painted a dark gray and were decorated with the stuffed heads of a variety of woodland creatures. As soon as the two stepped into the building, the taller of the two men was greeted warmly by a burly, tattooed man. "Ah, Ludwig!" he shouted, jumping from his seat. "It's been forever since I've seen you! What makes you come back here? I see you have a friend."

To Feliciano's surprise, Ludwig threw an arm around the Italian's shoulders in a way that only lifelong companions did. The smile that the German plastered onto his face was obviously forced and fake, and his voice carried a sugary substance to it that made Feliciano internally cringe.

"Feliciano here would like to take up shooting. I've never taken him here with me before since he was always too afraid to hold a gun, but he's always had an interest in learning to shoot. We're going to go hunting once he's comfortable with firearms."

The other man grinned in a way that was both warm and judgmental. "Well, you're welcome here. I'm Brutus." As he approached Feliciano, he took one of the Italian's skinny arms in his thick hands. "Well, _Feliciano,_ you're certainly quite...little."

In response to the physical contact, Feliciano had instinctively shuffled closer to Ludwig, just in case this Brutus tried to do anything funny. Ludwig must have noticed the Italian's discomfort because he grabbed Feliciano's arm and pushed the other man away. "That's enough, Brutus. Leave him alone."

The large man only smiled; it was a cold smile, one with no real affection behind it. He reached towards Feliciano's face and cupped his cheek. "Are you sure he'll be able to handle this sort of weaponry, Ludwig?"

Feliciano released a wordless whimper and jolted so violently that he bumped right into the German's chest. Instead of shoving him away, Ludwig just pushed Feliciano behind him and glared at Brutus, his eyes burning with icy fire.

"I said that was _enough,_ Brutus," he hissed. Feliciano had a death grip on Ludwig's jacket, and the Italian could feel the large man's eyes boring into his face.

Seemingly disappointed, Brutus strode away from the two. "Eh, whatever. I don't need to watch you two. Ludwig, you know how the guns work. I trust you with them and I'm sure you can teach Feliciano to shoot."

"I don't think you...Isn't it your _job_ to make sure we're safe with the firearms?"

Brutus picked up a cigar, lit it, and took a breath. "Yeah, technically. But don't blow the pretty one's brains out and you're good."

xXxXx

As Ludwig prepared the first gun, a pistol, he noticed that Feliciano was pale and trembling beside him. He was oddly quiet and stood to the side, rocking awkwardly back and forth on his heels.

Without looking up, Ludwig asked, "What's wrong, Feliciano?"

The Italian jumped, his amber eyes wide and afraid. "Hmm? Oh, it's nothing. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's something. Tell me, are you uncomfortable here?"

Feliciano shook his head, his auburn hair falling in front of his eyes. "It's just...your friend. He...called me 'the pretty one.'"

"Mm-hm."

"And...I've never met another man who has called me that before. Is he..."

"Gay?" Feliciano nodded. "Er...no. He's experimental, though. He's into mixing it up once in a while, and you...seem to fit...his standards. You're small and wouldn't pose much of a threat if he decided to...come after you," Ludwig finished lamely. Feliciano tipped his head to one side.

"Come after me?" he gasped as he realized what that meant. "He wouldn't!"

The German shrugged. "There's no telling what that man might do." He paused in loading the pistol with bullets. "But I won't let him get to you."

"Oh. Thank you."

Silence fell over the two men as Ludwig finished preparing the gun. As he turned to Feliciano, the Italian blurted out, "I'm bi."

"What?" The German seemed stunned. "What on Earth does that have to do with shooting a pistol?"

"Oh, no no no, I'm sorry! I thought we were still talking about Brutus and his sexuality! Sorry. I thought it was relevant."

"It is, I just...that's when you like both genders, correct?"

Feliciano nodded. "I grew up only liking girls, but as I became a teenager, I developed crushes on boys as well. In my eyes, gender doesn't matter; people are people, and I think all people are beautiful." Ludwig was staring at the ground, and he let out a grunt of consideration. "If I may ask...what are you?"

The gang leader's eyes instantly flicked from the ground up to Feliciano's face. "How does that matter?" he snapped. As soon as he saw Feliciano's expression falter, he let out a deep, heavy sigh. "I'm sorry. I just...if you must know, I am attracted to men. It took a long time for me to accept it, though."

Unlike what Ludwig had expected, there was nothing but understanding written on Feliciano's face. "I see."

"That's enough talk for now," the German interrupted. "Let's actually get some work done and start doing what we came here to do."

 **NO TRANSLATIONS**


	12. AN

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry that this isn't an actual update, but I have some news. Something has been going on with my computer, and no matter what I do, I am unable to open Word, the Internet, my files, etc. I can't restart it or anything, and I'm currently typing this on a school computer. I have to get it fixed sometime, but I haven't been able to work on this fanfiction since my computer got all funky.**

 **Now. I am** _ **NOT**_ **putting this story on hiatus or discontinuing it. As soon as I find out what's up with my computer and get it fixed, I will immediately get back to working on a chapter. I WILL finish this fanfiction no matter how long it takes. It might be a week or two until that shows up. I hope you guys understand and I appreciate your patience!**

 **See you then!**


	13. Chapter 11

**A/N: My laptop is working again, yay! I didn't think it would be this soon until it fixed itself, but I guess it was. I was going to go to get it fixed and then it just rebooted itself and started working. My laptop is a hell of a troll I suppose, since I was really concerned about having broken it (I've only had it since Christmas). Huh.**

 **Well, back to the fanfic! As I said, I'm really going to try to pick up the pace and get the plot rolling along. Enjoy today's update and I'm glad you didn't have to wait** _ **too**_ **long!**

xXxXx

"Okay, Feliciano. This is a pistol. I won't bother telling you what model it is since you wouldn't know the difference," Ludwig muttered, shoving the weapon into Feliciano's inexperienced hands.

The Italian, however, stared down at the pistol and then glared up at Ludwig. "That's not very nice. You're supposed to tell your trainee everything so that he knows what he's working with," he scolded, looking somewhat disgruntled.

"What I said was true. It doesn't matter if I tell you or not because you're too clueless to care."

Feliciano's jaw dropped and his golden eyes flooded with hurt. "That's so mean! Why would you say that?"

Ludwig shrugged. "Do you want to know how to shoot this damn gun or not?" The Italian whimpered and nodded shakily, instinctively shrinking back. "All right. Now come here." Feliciano tentatively stumbled over to the gang leader, his hands trembling. Ludwig sighed heavily and placed a warm hand over Feliciano's.

"Right. First you have to stop shaking. If you're moving too much, then your aim will be off and you'll most likely miss the target. You can't be cowardly anymore, Feliciano. One with a gun in their hands holds the ability to take tens of lives in a matter of minutes, and someone who doesn't know how to handle it is not worthy of that responsibility."

The Italian nodded his head once more, finally understanding the words that came out of Ludwig's mouth. _That makes sense,_ he pondered. _If I'm not strong enough to shoot, then what gives me the right to have that power?_ Feliciano set his shoulders and forced his trembling to stop.

"Okay," whispered Feliciano, "what next?"

Ludwig observed his apprentice closely, then shuffled behind him. Before the Italian even had a chance to turn and see what the gang leader was doing, Ludwig reached past Feliciano's shoulders and grabbed his wrists. The sudden closeness of their proximity shocked Feliciano, but he stood still and waited patiently for Ludwig to speak.

"Okay, so first you have to cock the gun." Feliciano shivered at the warmth of his breath, getting a full idea of how close they were in that moment. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but it was rather uncomfortable, considering the two didn't even know each other that well. The leader took hold of Feliciano's hand and guided his thumb so that it was in position to cock the pistol. Feliciano pulled the lever down, cringing at the _click_ that sounded from the weapon.

"You see, that's so it actually _shoots a bullet,"_ muttered Ludwig. Feliciano knew that that was a sarcastic comment in response to the Italian's earlier complaints, but he didn't mind it. He _couldn't_ think of much else, considering how _unbearingly close_ they were and it was beginning to become more and more frightening...

 _What if he decides to hurt me? What if I accidentally make him angry and he decides to kill me or worse or maybe throw me to Brutus if it comes to it-_

"You're shaking again," Ludwig whispered. "I know these weapons can be frightening. Calm down and remember what I told you."

Feliciano couldn't even respond, instead he just attempted to cease his shaking and focus on the gun. It took a few moments, but soon he was able to calm down and continue.

"Okay. You're good."

Ludwig nodded, then rose their arms until Feliciano was aiming at the target that was set up at the very edge of the room. He let the Italian place his finger on the trigger, then lowered his head so that they were side by side.

"Are you ready?" he asked, gripping Feliciano's hands tighter so that they wouldn't tremble.

Feliciano nodded, his eyes wide and fixed on the target. _No, no, I'm not ready. My heart is beating so, so fast and what if something goes wrong? What if one of us gets hurt?_

Ludwig must have sensed his discomfort, because he murmured, "Do you need a countdown?"

"Yes." The word that fell from Feliciano's mouth was barely a whisper.

"All right, Feliciano. Three..."

 _Oh, God, help me._

"Two..."

 _If I accidentally shot him, would they blame me for his death? What if he shoots me on accident and Lovino has no one left? What if-_

"One!"

Without any hesitance, Ludwig pulled the trigger of the pistol, and an ear-splitting noise cracked throughout the room. The force of the gun spooked Feliciano, and he released a high-pitched squeal and jolted. The only thing that kept the Italian from plummeting to the ground was Ludwig's embrace around his shoulders.

"I can't do that again!" he wailed. "I can't!" Tears sprung to his eyes and he shoved his face into his hands, causing the pistol to fall from his grasp. "I can't!" Feliciano forced himself away from Ludwig and collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

"Feliciano..." Ludwig knelt down beside him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. The gun won't hurt you."

"The _bullet_ will," retorted Feliciano. The German let out an exasperated sigh and rose to his feet. He held out a gloved hand and allowed Feliciano to take it, pulling him up.

"Maybe I went about it the wrong way. How about I shoot a few rounds just so you can get used to the sound of the bullets?" With his hands still clamped around his face, the Italian nodded slightly. "Okay. You can go stand in the back of the room if you think it will make it easier."

When Feliciano was as far back as the walls allowed, Ludwig picked up the gun from the floor and positioned himself in a perfect shooting stance. His arms reached out as far as they could in front of himself, and he stood proudly, his icy blue eyes fixated on the target. As he shot the first bullet, the noise made Feliciano jump again, but he recovered much faster than the last time. When Ludwig turned around to see how he had reacted, Feliciano gave him a thumbs-up, although he still had one hand covering one of his ears.

As Ludwig began firing again, Feliciano felt himself become less and less frightened by the sounds. Even though they were still unsettling, the terror that he felt before sated, only to be replaced by fascination. How could Ludwig hit _every single target_ in the very middle _every single time?_ It was like witnessing a real-life action movie, with the added excitement of realizing that if he trained hard enough, Feliciano as well would be able to possess this talent.

Finally, after no more than a minute, Ludwig seemed to realize that the pistol had ran out of bullets. Rather than walking to the side to retrieve some more, the German strode over to Feliciano.

"Well?" he asked apprehensively. "Are you okay now?"

The Italian nodded vehemently, his amber eyes wide with admiration. "That was so cool! How did you learn to do that?"

Ludwig shrugged, a faint rosy blush tinting his cheeks. "I trained with the guns and studied them. I learned the aerodynamics of the bullets then did what I had to do to hit the target."

Feliciano's jaw dropped and he squirmed a little bit with happiness. "That's awesome! Teach me!"

"I can't just _teach_ you. You have to be willing to actually be willing to learn. Being afraid of one gunshot isn't getting off to a good start."

Feliciano frowned. "But I wasn't covering my eyes at the end there! Did you see?"

The German narrowed his eyes, then glanced to the side. "I guess you didn't. Yes, I did see. Good job, I guess." The praise surprised Feliciano and he grinned widely.

"Thank you, Ludwig! Can we try again? Please?"

"Yes. Do you think you can do it without my help?"

"Maybe," Feliciano replied, less enthusiastically this time. "I suppose the only way we can find out is if we try."

Shyly, the Italian approached the German, who handed over the pistol. Before Feliciano raised the gun to aim at the target, Ludwig cried out, "Wait! I forgot to reload it."

"What? Will it hurt me or explode if it's not reloaded?" Feliciano glanced frantically down at the weapon.

As Ludwig snatched the pistol from Feliciano and began plugging a round of ammunition into it, he released an amused chuckle. "No. Absolutely nothing will happen, and that's the bad part." Feliciano nodded as if he understood.

The shorter man reclaimed the gun and tried to replicate the stance Ludwig had taken when he had started shooting. He aimed the gun at the closest target there was to him, and shut his eyes tightly.

"Don't close your eyes," scolded Ludwig. "If you can't see, you can't aim properly, _dummkopf._ Common sense, Vargas."

With his trainer's advice in his mind, Feliciano attempted to raise the gun again with his eyes wide open. He swallowed nervously, and looked over to Ludwig for support. The German nodded encouragingly, his blue eyes surprisingly warm. As soon as he looked back at the target, Feliciano pulled the trigger without thinking.

It was as if the world had ceased its spinning, as if time had halted, as if the environment around him dissolved into nothingness. When the bullet shot out of the pistol, the walls around Feliciano disappeared, only to be replaced by a vast space of metal floor. Standing proudly where the target was supposed to be, was Lovino.

Feliciano gasped with horror as the bullet passed through his brother's chest. Blood splattered the ground around Lovino as he grasped at the wound before plummeting to the metal floor, eyes devoid of all life. Feliciano released a piercing screech, letting go of the gun and rushing forward to help his brother. However, as soon as the weapon hit the floor, the world around him was gone and had returned to the shooting range. Ludwig's eyes were wide with shock.

Too afraid to be embarrassed, Feliciano allowed his legs to give out and let himself fall to the floor. He was sobbing, more intensely than before, curling up into a small ball as he trembled with terror. His cries shook his entire body, and before long he was gasping for air, clutching his hands into fists as he fought to breathe. He noticed Ludwig kneel beside him and place an arm around his shoulders, but he forced him away; he was not in the mood to be held by anyone in that moment.

"What happened?" Ludwig asked, quickly checking Feliciano for any wounds. "Did you hurt yourself? What's wrong?"

The Italian shook his head in despair, staring at the ground and watching as it was flooded with the wetness of his tears. "Lovino!" he wailed. "He was there!"

Ludwig hesitantly rubbed the other man's back in a futile attempt to comfort him. "Shh, it's all right. No one is here except for us."

"I shot him! It was right in the chest! He's dead! I killed him!"

The gang leader's expression immediately transformed into something much more concerned. "No, Feliciano. You must have been seeing things." He scooted closer, trying to make his trainee see sense. "Lovino isn't here."

 _I trust him. If Ludwig says Lovino isn't here, then he isn't. Am I going crazy?_ thought Feliciano as more tears spilled down his cheeks. Ludwig sighed and rose to his feet.

"All right, then. That's enough training for today. Let's get you home and under some blankets or something."

Feliciano agreed without complaint.

xXxXx

After Ludwig had returned the pistol and bullets to Brutus, he took Feliciano by the hand and led him out of the building. Just as he began to walk down the street, Feliciano cried, "We're going the wrong way!"

The German didn't slow down or stop his walking, or even turn to look at the Italian. Instead, he explained, "We're not going to your apartment. I'm taking you back to my house. You can't afford to be alone at this time."

Feliciano thought that perhaps that was a bit odd, because if he didn't want him to be alone then surely he could just come back and be at his apartment? Was he going to kidnap him and hurt him if he refused?

"Uh, sir, maybe we should just go back to my apartment, uh, because I-"

"For the _last time,_ Feliciano, I am not going to hurt you, or abduct you, or rape you. And don't call me 'sir'."

For the next few minutes, Feliciano fell into an uncomfortable silence and allowed Ludwig to drag him along as he watched the cement of the sidewalk go by. When he decided that the quietness was too unsettling for his liking, he asked, "Do you have a sibling, Ludwig?"

He noticed that the German had tensed. "Yes, an older brother. Why do you ask?" His voice was suddenly threatening.

"Um, because I had never really heard about if you did or not, and I love my brother so much, and...do you love your brother, Ludwig?"

"We do not _talk_ about my brother!" he snapped, whirling around to face Feliciano. "Is that understood?"

Feliciano automatically nodded his head, instantly horrified at the outburst. With an irritated grunt, Ludwig grabbed Feliciano's arm and continued to drag him along. Strange, how someone who was comforting him just minutes ago was now on the verge of throwing him into the crowded streets. The Italian tilted his head in confusion, trying to figure out this man and his odd mood swings.

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Dummkopf**_ **(German): Idiot/Fool**


	14. Chapter 12

**A/N: Just for the record, I hammered out this chapter like nobody's business just so I could get it out on Feli's and Lovi's birthday, which is today, March 17. Happy birthday, babies! 3 Sorry I treat you two so badly in this fanfiction.**

 **Also, we're just getting to the part where we get to see a lot more of the actual gangs and introducing some new characters, such as Japan, Poland, and the Benelux trio. We get to see Belarus in this chapter too, because I love her, and Japan in the next. I hope to introduce some of** _ **Vargar av Is**_ **soon as well. Sorry if this story seems like it's dragging out with no plot development. We'll get there. I promise.**

xXxXx

If there was one thing that Natalya Arlovskaya had perfected, it was slinking around during the daytime. It came naturally to the Belarusian, and she was the Hawks' perfect weapon when it came to daylight spying. In fact, this was the second time she was ordered (or more like, had decided) to observe these two particular people.

It was a rather dangerous position, when one thought about it. If she was caught, by a high-ranking gang member or otherwise, there would be hell to pay. To make it worse, Natalya's appearance didn't necessarily make it easier to hide. Her long, platinum blonde hair and pale skin shone brightly in the sun, so she had to be sure to cover up in mostly black. It was quite aggravating, since she had to dress this way without seeming suspicious.

Even though she had already watched Ludwig and his recruit a few days ago, both she and Alfred thought it would be better if she tried again, just to gather some more information and to see how the two acted around each other. Not only that, but supposedly this recruit was Lovino's _brother._ His _twin._ Reports from her sister, Katyusha, said that the two of them were seen heading into the shooting range.

 _That's odd,_ Natalya thought. _The shooting range. That means that sausage-breath has already begun training that Italian! They've replaced the one that they lost!_ _God dammit!_

That news was Natalya's fuel to this mission. She was currently shoved beneath a bush with her back pressed firmly against the wall of a brick building. Uncomfortable, sure, but it was necessary, and it wasn't like anyone could see her. Natalya's gloved hands clutched the soil beneath her impatiently.

There was so much hope in every single one of the Hawks that since Lovino Vargas was gone, _Soldaten_ would have lost a member. There was another rumor going around that Antonio Carriedo would drop out of the gang as well in order to care for the broken Italian. Now, they would really only be losing one.

"So, this is it, Feliciano. The range. Now we get to see how well you can function with a firearm."

Natalya nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the unmistakable German accent of _Soldaten's_ leader sounded from a bit in front of her. She peered past the bush to see the leader and the other man she had only witnessed once before. He looked tiny compared to the towering leader, but couldn't be much shorter than Lovino.

"Sounds great!" the auburn-haited man chirped, increasing his pace to keep up with the German. He looked so small, so innocent...nothing like a brutal gang member. He looked...out of place.

 _Huh. So this is his twin._ Just before the recruit disappeared from her line of sight, Natalya whipped out her camera and snapped a variety of pictures of the two of them. Perhaps it wasn't much, but a second attempt gave her _much_ more information. Natalya would be returning to Alfred with not only pictures, but a name as well.

 _Feliciano._

xXxXx

Ludwig's residence was much different than Feliciano than expected. It wasn't an apartment, like the majority of the homes in the area, but an independent house that included a vast, fenced-in backyard. The house was painted a deep gray and was accented with silver-lined windows.

"I've told you before that I have three dogs," Ludwig stated before he opened the door. "That's why I needed this house with the huge yard. They're large but gentle, and though they might get excited, they will not even think about biting or hurting you. Don't be afraid of them."

Feliciano nodded in acknowledgment, his face lighting up. "Don't worry. I love dogs!"

Sending a smile the Italian's way, Ludwig slowly heaved open the front door. The two of them removed their jackets and hung them on the coat rack only seconds before they were ambushed by three bundles of fur and licking tongues. Ludwig frantically attempted to pet them all at once, as they were all ecstatic at their master's return.

 _"Hallo, hallo,"_ he crooned. _"Ja, ich bin zuhause, hallo."_

The dogs, two dark brown and black and the other yellow, sniffed profusely at Feliciano when they noticed they had never met him before. Feliciano held out his hand and allowed the dogs to smell it, as he had seen others do when they first met a canine. The German Shepherd seemed to be the bravest out of all three, as he nuzzled at Feliciano's hands the moment they were offered to him.

"Aw, they're so nice," the Italian commented, petting the German Shepherd's fluffy head.

Ludwig, who was warmly watching the dogs greet Feliciano, responded, "Yes, they are. That German Shepherd is Berlitz. The Doberman is Blackie and the old Hovawart is Aster. I've had Aster the longest, ever since I was eleven. He's almost ten years old now." He knelt down to run his hands over Aster's golden chest, chuckling as he was rewarded with wet kisses.

"So you're twenty now?" Feliciano asked.

"Yes. And you?"

"I'm the same! I'm only a few minutes younger than Lovino, but he always acts like he's so much more wiser than me because of that." The air in the room automatically turned dismal at the mention of Lovino's name, but Feliciano shook it off. "Never mind that. So what now?"

"Well, like I said, you're here because I'm not going to let you be alone right now. Too much has been happening, for both of us mind you, to be without someone. I'll go make some coffee for the two of us and then I'll tell you what I have in mind."

 _Have in mind?_ thought Feliciano. _That's a very broad phrase._

"Okay," he acceeded hesitantly, shrinking a little bit.

Ludwig led him over to his kitchen, which was rather spacey and well-kept. It wasn't necessarily luxurious, but it was tidy; in fact, his whole house was. Being both a chef and an artist, Feliciano's apartment was always in need of a good cleaning, even without Lovino around. On the other hand, everything in Ludwig's house seemed to have a place. The floors were swept spotless and there was nothing dirtying the kitchen table.

Once the two of them had poured themselves some freshly-brewed coffee, they sat down at the kitchen table to drink. Feliciano glanced at Ludwig expectantly, and he noticed the Italian's gaze almost instantly.

"So," he began, "what I was thinking about, Feliciano, was you becoming an accepted member of _Soldaten._ Based on what the rest of the gang has seen of Lovino, I'm sure that they're expecting just as much from you. However, from what _I've_ seen from today, there's still a lot that needs to be worked on." Feliciano cringed when he heard that part. "Now, I am not sure that you know of my second-in-command, Kiku Honda. Has your brother ever mentioned him before?"

Feliciano shrugged. "He's said his name before once or twice. He complains a lot about the rest of the gang members-"

"Including me, I know," Ludwig put in, a smirk resting on his face.

"But he's never really brought up Mr. Honda in conversation before. I guess he kind of respects him, now that I think about it."

"Ah," muttered Ludwig, leaning back in his seat. "I can believe that. Everyone respects Kiku. He's not much of a violent person in everyday life, I can tell you that, but when you anger him, _especially_ when you're a member of the Hawks, all hell breaks loose. Kiku feels very strongly against the Hawks, and no one really knows why. He's a master at using a katana, and without a doubt one of _Soldaten_ 's most talented fighters."

"So where are you going with all of this?" interrupted Feliciano.

Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "Well, I would like you to meet him. Tonight. If all goes well, we'll be able to introduce you to the other gang members as well. That means you'll have to tell Antonio, Feliciano."

At the mention of the inevitability of telling his Spanish friend, Feliciano's amber eyes went painfully wide. "Tell him? I can't! He'll never approve! When I told him that maybe I could replace Lovino in _Soldaten,_ he was against it! This was a while ago, the day after Lovino was injured. If he found out that I had been planning to join you and had been training after all this time, he would kill me!" Tears had begun to pour down Feliciano's face once more as he thought the situation over. Blackie, Ludwig's Doberman, strode over to the Italian and began to lick at his arms. Sniffling, Feliciano pet his head.

"It's only a matter of time before he finds out, Feliciano. If you want to be a part of this gang, then you're going to come in contact with Antonio at one point or another."

"But he said that he was going to take a break from the gang as long as Lovino was hurt!"

Ludwig's eyes widened; this was news to him. "What?"

"That's what he said, the night that we found out Lovino had amnesia and Antonio had a breakdown. If Lovino's not there, he's not there." A blanket of uncomfortable silence settled over the two men.

 _"Scheiße,"_ Ludwig hissed after a moment. "No, that can't be true. _Soldaten_ is not strong enough to lose two of its members! More and more people are joining the Hawks by the day, and God knows what _Vargar av Is_ are up to." He groaned and buried his face into his hands, sighing deeply.

"I don't know, Feliciano," he whispered. "Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing this for. There is no reason, no matter how strongly I feel against Alfred, for me to lead my gang into battle when we are dolefully outnumbered. Why risk so many lives when there is no hope?"

Tentatively, Feliciano reached forward and placed a hand on the German's broad shoulder. "That doesn't matter. If we become stronger, we can fight them off. You said Kiku was one of the best fighters you have ever seen, correct? And I'm sure that you can fight better than Alfred any day! Even with a second-in-command like Ivan-"

"Ivan isn't their second-in-command, Feliciano. It's a blond man with a British accent named Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

Feliciano was surprised; in his mind, Ivan was second-in-command, as he had never heard otherwise. Plus, Ivan seemed like the kind of stereotypical henchman that one would see in the movies.

"Anyway, that night when I first met you, when Lovino was hurt, he didn't even bother trying to fight you, because he knew he couldn't win!"

"That was only because I had a gun," the leader muttered bitterly.

"But so did he! And no matter what it takes, Ludwig, I promise you that I will continue to train until I can fight. I know shooting didn't go so well today, but please give me another chance. I might not be as good of a fighter as the rest of you, but I'll try." He fell silent for a moment. "You can't give up, Ludwig," he murmured, running a gentle hand down his arm. In response to the touch, Ludwig jolted as if he was just shocked by electricity. He let out a hiss of surprise and shoved Feliciano's hand away.

"Why the hell do you think you can touch me like that?" he seethed. "I am your _leader,_ Italian."

Feliciano dropped his hand onto his lap, staring shamefully down at the ground. "I'm sorry. _Mi dispiace."_

Ludwig shook his head. "No, don't be. I just..." He trailed off, gazing out the window. "I called Kiku this morning. He can come over tonight."

"That sounds nice. He sounds like an awesome person, and I can't wait to meet him! Do you think he'll like me? Do you think he'll accept me?"

With a grunt of frustration, Ludwig reached over and covered Feliciano's mouth with his hand. "Be quiet, you're triggering my migraine. And as for whether or not Kiku will like you, I guess we'll have to wait and see."

xXxXx

 **TRANSLATIONS**

 _ **Ja, ich bin zuhause, hallo**_ **(German): Yes, I am home, hello**

 _ **Scheiße**_ **(German): Shit**

 _ **Mi dispiace**_ **(Italian): I'm sorry**


	15. Chapter 13

Ludwig and Feliciano only had a few hours to themselves before Kiku showed up. In that time span, Feliciano was given a tour of the house, played with the dogs for a bit, and thought about what he wanted to have for dinner. It was only a matter of time before he realized—what _was_ he going to have for dinner? He had supposed that he would have been home by dinnertime, but it was already six o'clock, and his stomach was starting to growl. He thought about the situation before a brilliant idea came to mind.

"Hey, Ludwig," he called to the leader, who was sitting at the other side of the living room and had engrossed himself in a novel. When he looked up and met Feliciano's gaze, the Italian continued. "I was wondering, since it's already six and I'm hungry, if maybe I could go back to the café and make some pasta for the three of us? You can stay here if you want to, and I can make it back here with the food before Kiku shows up! Isn't that a good idea?"

The German looked at him for a few moments, seemingly analyzing the situation. Finally, he nodded. "That _is_ a good idea, I suppose. I didn't really think about dinner either, and I don't have that much food in the house. We still have an hour; do you think you can make pasta and be back here in that time?"

"Of course! I can make pasta in _half_ an hour if I need to!"

Ludwig placed his book on the table next to his chair and stood. "Okay, but I'm coming with you. We can go in my car if you want to. I'll call Kiku and tell him about our plans, all right?"

The two of them settled into Ludwig's black car, which wasn't necessarily a fancy one but wasn't that terrible-looking either. Feliciano's eyes widened at the tidiness of the vehicle; it seemed like this man didn't have _anything_ that was out of place!

"I wish I had a car," whispered Feliciano longingly as he ran a hand over the passenger's side door. Ludwig started the engine and pulled out of his short driveway.

"You don't have one?"

Feliciano shook his head. "No, but Antonio does. I have my license, but Lovino and I were never able to come up with enough money to get our own. Antonio stays over so often that we can just borrow his when we have to get places. We can walk most of the time if it's not too far."

It was only about a five minute drive before Ludwig was pulling up in front of Feliciano's café. When Feliciano hopped out of the car and noticed that Ludwig hadn't budged, he stuck his head back into the vehicle.

"Hey, aren't you coming?" Ludwig looked up with a surprised expression.

"You want me to come in with you?"

"Why not? I'm not just going to let you sit in here! Come on, you can watch me cook!"

As Feliciano gathered the ingredients and immediately put water on the stove to boil, Ludwig watched in amazement. He was in awe at how quickly and efficiently the Italian worked, but freaked out at the shots of a gun. Sure, there was a difference between a firearm and a hot stove, but both had the potential to severely injure someone.

It took only 25 minutes or so until Feliciano was dishing out the finished pasta into a container. Before he placed the lid back on, he grabbed a fork from the cabinet and stuck it into the pasta.

"Here, Ludwig, taste!" Feliciano held out the fork, insisting that the German sample their dinner. With a sigh, Ludwig grabbed the utensil and took a bite of the food. His eyes widened with surprise after a few seconds.

"Wow, that's actually really good," praised Ludwig. "A lot better, in fact, than most of the pasta I've eaten before."

Feliciano beamed. "Really?"

"Yes, but then again, I don't eat much pasta."

xXxXx

When the two men returned to Ludwig's house, Feliciano began to dish out their food rations onto three separate plates. He picked up a bottle of wine (Italian, of course) that he had brought from the café and poured a small amount into three wine glasses. After Ludwig had finished setting the table with silverware, cloths and the like, Feliciano placed down their food and drink just as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Ludwig muttered, although it wasn't necessary; Feliciano was unbelievably anxious at having to meet this wonderous fighter. When the leader opened the door, the Italian was quite shocked at Kiku's appearance. While Feliciano had expected someone of Asian—in this case, Japanese—descent judging by Kiku's name, what he didn't guess was how _short_ the man would be. He couldn't have stood more than five and a half feet tall.

"Hello, Ludwig. It is nice to see you again." Kiku bowed respectfully, although the German did not return the gesture.

"Yes, the same to you."

When Kiku rose from his bow, he immediately fixed his eyes onto Feliciano. They were dark brown and emotionless, but not in an unsettling way. They were calm and welcoming, nothing like a warrior's were supposed to be. His black hair fell in a few strands over his eyes, causing him to appear mysterious and strange.

"And you are Feliciano Vargas? Our new recruit?" the second-in-command questioned in a soft voice. Feliciano nodded, scared out of his wits.

However, Kiku only smiled. "Do not be afraid of me. I know Ludwig has told you about the kind of weaponry I am fond of, but there is no need to fear me. As you are on our side, I will not use physical force to harm you."

Ludwig cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Feliciano has also taken it upon himself to make the three of us pasta for dinner. It's waiting in the dining room, so we had better eat before it cools." He disappeared into the other room.

Kiku turned and met eyes with Feliciano. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Vargas."

Feliciano was shocked at how formally Kiku addressed him, but he nonetheless said enthusiastically, "Oh, it's no problem. I love to cook, so it wasn't a big deal."

"Well, thank you anyway."

As the three settled down and dug into their dinner, Feliciano noticed that both Kiku and Ludwig were tending to make small talk with him. There was no mention of _Soldaten_ or the Hawks, and both of the men were being rather kind to him. They spoke of the weather, what they had seen on television recently, and practically everything else. Kiku complimented Feliciano exactly eight times on his pasta. When they had all finished eating their food, Ludwig took all of their plates and placed them in the sink for a later washing. He turned to Kiku and Feliciano.

"All right, then. Let's go...sit in my living room, I guess. Then we can talk about the real issues we have."

Once they were seated, Ludwig leaned back in his chair and met eyes with Feliciano.  
"So, Kiku, this is him. Our recruit."

"Hmm. Tell me what you've taught him so far."

"Well, I've given him the basic rundown of what he needs to learn. The weapons, the stealth, the fighting...though we've only actually tried the former."

"And how did that go?" inquired Kiku, turning to the Italian.

Feliciano stared shamefully down at the ground, tears threatening to spring to his eyes. It was still embarrassing to think about. "I...I freaked out. I shot a gun and then I hallucinated and thought that Lovino was there. It sent me into a panic attack."

"I don't know if I want him near guns anymore," Ludwig muttered. "Not if he's that afraid of them."

"So what _do_ you want? We can't have him out at night with us and _not_ provide him with a weapon! These attacks are becoming more and more violent, plus with the loss of Antonio and Lovino, the Hawks are more likely to notice him and single him out."

Ludwig shut his eyes for a moment. "That is true. Feliciano, you told me once that you were very efficient with knives." The German drew a long, deep breath. "Have you ever thought about throwing knives?"

The Italian fell silent, pondering carefully over the proposition before he spoke. _Throwing_ knives? Not cooking knives, no. He was so used to blades that were used to create, not to take lives. However, then again...

Knives weren't a weapon that would necessarily have to _kill_ the enemy. Yes, they caused excessive blood loss when they could (Feliciano knew that from experience), but if thrown in the right area with the correct precision, the resulting wound was no more than a warning to stay away. In addition, they made no loud, traumatizing noises that would frighten Feliciano into a panic attack. He was familiar with them, and could most likely control their direction well enough that he could aim well. The only thing he would have to work on was his arm strength for when he needed to actually throw.

"I think...I think knives are a great idea," he agreed, nodding. "Kiku, you're good with a machete, right?"

"A _katana,_ " the Japanese man corrected. "They are different, but yes. I have been practicing with them practically my whole life. Ever since I was a young boy. Since you are a chef, Feliciano, I expect you will be a natural around blades."

"I've cut myself many times before, so a few accidents won't bother me," boasted Feliciano proudly. "I'll be much better with knives than a pistol."

Ludwig rested his head on his hand and turned to the Italian. "I know that you will be. I, on the other hand, am perfectly fine with firearms and wouldn't have it any other way. I fail to see how most people are so afraid of them."

"Well, they're dangerous!" defended Feliciano. "I know that _all_ weapons are, but guns are just so...unfair. You require virtually no skill to use them. I realize that you have to be able to aim well, but other than that, all you do is pull the trigger. In less than a second, someone's life could be over."

Feliciano immediately felt Ludwig's icy gaze settle on him. "Using that logic, all you have to do when you're using knives is be able to aim, and then you throw. With a katana, you just find out where your enemy is and swing." He shook his head hopelessly. "Feliciano, weapons are more complex than you might believe. Anyways, I don't think we'll be able to take you out and introduce you to the rest of _Soldaten_ until we figure out your skills. We were thinking about taking you out at night to get a feel of the environment you will be in when we...do what we're meant to do."

"Do?" Feliciano shivered with fright. "What... _do_ you do? Aren't gangs supposed to deal drugs to people and stuff?"

Ludwig huffed a breath of laughter. _"Gott,_ no. Well, yes, but _we_ never did. _Soldaten_ was not created out of boredom or for fun, you see; it was for desperation. Many people hung out anyways, but it was never official. People fought all the time, but it was just scrabbles over small amounts of missing money and things like that. When the situation started to become more intense, Alfred supposedly had the bright idea of organizing the Hawks. Those who were his friends and who shared his opinions sided with him. Those who didn't were afraid. After...an... _incident,_ I promised those who were alone that I would assemble a fighting force against the Hawks. A man by the name of Berwald Oxenstierna volunteered to lead a third group for people who didn't want to get involved in anything. They are _Vargar av Is._ However, we do not kill unless need be. If you're slightly injured, whatever, but if you're killed, someone is going to crack down on the gangs, find us, and charge us all. No matter if you're with me, Alfred, or Berwald, _all_ members will be disposed of. We _fight,_ we do not kill. What we do is illegal, but we still have morals. That includes not having drugs."

"We are...more of an organization than a gang," added Kiku, looking intently down at the floor.

"In addition to that, we still need to figure out how fast you can run and how you fare in hand-to-hand combat. Along with the weapon of your choice, I have to provide you with a pistol as well when we go out, just in case something happens. This process is more intricate than you think, and if you are unable to hold your own...I'll have no choice but to drop you."

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Gott**_ **(German): God**


	16. Chapter 14

**A/N: I am so sorry that updates are taking a little longer than I would like them to. Schoolwork has been killing me lately. I've been working on two research projects at once this past week, plus making up a shit-ton of papers and tests that I missed when I was out sick all the week before. I'll try to work on this fanfiction as quickly as I can, but if updates take longer than expected to come out, I'm deeply sorry, but at least now you know why.**

 **(There are characters that appear or are mentioned in this chapter who have not been given an official name yet. They are Katyusha [Ukraine], Angelique [Seychelles], Bella [Belgium], and Abel [the Netherlands].)**

xXxXx

Ludwig's dramatic speech, if anything, only fanned the flames of Feliciano's determination. If getting into _Soldaten_ was going to be as difficult as the German had made it sound, then that was too bad; he'd only have to try harder to achieve his goals.

The three had decided that it wasn't too late to start some form of training. In his basement, Ludwig had a large piece of pegboard that would support knives if they were thrown hard enough. Knives, obviously, could be found in Ludwig's kitchen, although he did own a variety of daggers for other, less domestic uses. They took a decent amount of the blades and headed down to the basement. Feliciano noticed Ludwig grab a bottle of spray paint from a shelf before turning to the stairwell and walking downstairs.

When all three of them had gotten to where they needed to be, Ludwig propped up the piece of pegboard against a blank white wall. He took the spray paint and made a total of five circles on the board, with no markings or anything to tell what they were for. Kiku placed one of the knives in Feliciano's hand.

"This," began Ludwig, motioning to the pegboard, "is your target. The closer you get to the very center of the target, the more accurate your aim is. I won't scold you if you hit the wall, but try not to. It's not very enjoyable having blade marks in your house."

Feliciano nodded and backed up until he was about ten feet away from the board. He checked that both Kiku and Ludwig were far enough away from him so that he wouldn't hit them on accident. This _was_ his first time throwing a knife.

 _Please,_ he prayed silently, _let this go better than the shooting._ With a deep, shuddering breath, Feliciano stared directly at the center of the target, aimed slightly higher, and flung the knife in that direction.

The blade didn't exactly get a strong grip in the pegboard, but his aim was decent, if a little high. The dagger had situated itself on the line of paint between the second and third circles. However, it wasn't firm enough and clattered to the floor a few seconds later. The Italian looked expectantly at his comrades, his amber eyes full of hope.

"Hm..." Ludwig peered at the mark that was left by the knife. "Not bad, actually. _Much_ better than how you did with the guns. Your aim is high, but I expected that. Knives aren't like guns, you see; in order to hit the target, you don't have to aim a little higher than what looks like a good spot. If you manage to throw it hard enough, it will just stick to whatever surface it goes to."

"That's another thing," put in Kiku, "your strength. We'll have to work on how hard you throw the knives so it will cut through the material. Just cutting a person will not be enough to disable them. You have to get through the skin in order to actually hurt them."

Although Feliciano did not agree with Kiku's violent views, he accepted that it was a part of gang culture and he would have to hurt someone sooner or later. It was an inevitable event.

"Okay," muttered Feliciano, recalling what the two of them had just told him, "can I go again?"

xXxXx

It was late at night, around 11:30, when the three had decided that that was enough training for the day. Feliciano was actually quite decent at hitting the target when they were finished, and he even hit close to the center a few times. Kiku left as soon as training was declared over, bidding the other two farewell and promising to see them again soon.

"See you later, Kiku," Feliciano had trilled, hugging him tightly. The Japanese man, however, gently pushed him away with wide eyes.

"Please don't," he murmured, which caused Feliciano to tip his head to the side, wondering what it was he did wrong. Kiku chuckled, shook his head, and placed a hand on the Italian's shoulder. "Don't worry. It's nothing personal. I just don't like it when people touch me." Feliciano nodded in understanding, and Kiku continued, "You're a wonderful recruit, Feliciano. I see so much potential in you. We'll continue the training with the knives another time, and before long, you'll be just as good of a fighter as the rest of us."

Once Kiku had left Ludwig's house, Feliciano yawned vehemently. Ludwig sighed deeply and asked if he would like to be taken back to his apartment.

"That would be great, _grazie,_ " the Italian responded, although he was already falling asleep there and then.

"All right. Grab your jacket and we'll go. Try and stay awake."

Once they were bundled up in their jackets, Ludwig led him into the garage and into his car. Feliciano buckled his seatbelt with droopy eyes, and he only made it about two minutes before he was passed out in the passenger's side of Ludwig's car. When Ludwig noticed, he let out a heavy sigh, but decided to let the Italian sleep for the remainder of the drive.

Throughout the entire drive, the German made sure to avoid all possible bumps in the road, as to not wake his unconscious passenger. Feliciano's head was resting on the car door, his hair crumpled against the glass of the window. His tan skin was accented with the street lights, making his skin seem lighter than it actually was. The auburn color of his hair was illuminated to a bright orange, and his chest rose and fell steadily with the rhythm of sleep.

When Ludwig arrived at Feliciano's apartment, he paused and turned to watch the Italian sleep. He didn't want to disturb him, even if it was inevitable. He seemed so...tranquil. It was as if nothing on Earth could bother him, as if he wished to escape the horrors of the world in his peaceful slumber. For someone who was so determined to obtain strength in order to help Ludwig and Lovino, he looked so small in this one moment. So little, so in need of someone to protect him.

With a heart full of guilt, Ludwig reached over and nudged Feliciano's shoulder. "Feliciano," he whispered. "Feliciano. We're at your house. You have to wake up now."

The Italian released a tiny groan, yawning and stretching his arms. "Carry me," he crooned, shutting his eyes again.

"No, Feliciano, come on." Ludwig's tone was a bit harder that time, but Feliciano's eyes did not open. "Feliciano, I'm serious." Nothing.

Sighing, Ludwig opened his own car side door, exited the car, and made his way over to the passenger's side. He unbuckled Feliciano and wrapped his arms around the Italian's waist before heaving him over his shoulder. He was surprisingly warm, and for someone who ate so much pasta, he was a significant amount lighter than Ludwig thought he would be. Feliciano nuzzled into his shoulder, clutching his friend's back so he wouldn't fall off.

"Do you have your key?" Ludwig muttered once he got to Feliciano's door. The Italian nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small house key. Ludwig plugged it into the lock and heaved open the door, strolling past the café and up the stairs into Feliciano's actual house. He roamed around until he found what looked to be his friend's bedroom and gently placed the little man onto the bed.

 _"Grazie,"_ Feliciano muttered, snuggling into his pillow. Ludwig grabbed one of the blankets that was strewn across his bed and threw it over the Italian. He had already fallen back asleep.

 _"Gute Nacht, wenig Italienisch,"_ Ludwig whispered. He let himself out of the house and drove home, feeling rather tired himself.

xXxXx

Natalya slammed down a few papers onto the table in front of Alfred. Her violet eyes gleamed with excitement, and there was a sly grin on her face. They were currently in Arthur's garage, the place that was the Hawks' designated headquarters.

"This is him!" she exclaimed. "This is the guy who was with Ludwig! He looks like Lovino Vargas, does he not?"

Alfred hummed and examined the pictures closely. They were all an assortment of Ludwig and his little acquaintance walking down a sidewalk. There was no doubt about it. The auburn hair, the tan skin, even the wayward curl protruding from the left side of his head of hair; this _was_ Lovino's brother.

"Yes, this most certainly _is_ him," trilled Ivan, who was peering enthusiastically over Alfred's shoulder. "He was the one who I had never seen before when I went to attack Lovino. He is pretty much useless when it comes to defending himself, but I must say, he is quite adorable!"

"Stick to the point," Arthur muttered, shoving the Russian's shoulder. Francis and Natalya's sister, Katyusha, were also present in the room, although they stood silently to the side. "So this is the brother?" he asked, turning to Alfred.

"Yes, that's him. He was there the night that our mission failed. He must be a new recruit." Alfred's sapphire eyes glinted with distaste.

Natalya snorted. "Oh, yes, he is a recruit. Why else would the leader of _Soldaten_ have a runt like that on his arm if he wasn't trying to train him? Plus, they went into the shooting range. I'm not exactly sure, but it sounded like Ludwig was explaining what he needed the little one to do."

"Maybe they are affiliated with one another, if you know what I mean," Francis put in, chuckling lightly.

Alfred lifted a finger to silence his comrades, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "I think it is safe to assume that he is being trained. He doesn't look like much, but who knows? Maybe he holds an unknown strength that none of us can see thus far."

"Perhaps Ludwig is desperate," murmured Katyusha from her corner of the discussion. "It would make sense for him to be, after losing both Lovino Vargas and Antonio Carriedo from the accident."

The five Hawks nodded in agreement, silently coming to the conclusion that that was most likely the case. After a few moments of silence, Natalya spoke up.

"I also have one more piece of information. I have a name."

Arthur's jade eyes widened. "Well? What is it?"

"Feliciano," she said, pronouncing it carefully, as if she were tasting the name on her tongue. "So that would make him _Feliciano Vargas,_ if he is Lovino's brother."

Alfred leaned back in his chair, narrowing his blue eyes in concentration. "Feliciano Vargas," he repeated. "It seems familiar. That could be him. I feel like I've heard that name before."

"So what do we do with this information?" Ivan questioned. "We can't do anything to him, can we? We can't be completely sure that he is a recruit."

"And even if he _is_ one," said Katyusha, "we can't hurt him." She peered at the photographs. "He's so little. He doesn't look like someone who wants to hurt people. If anything, we go for Ludwig. He's the heart and soul of _Soldaten,_ the reason why that gang exists in the first place."

"I agree." Francis's tone of voice was seemingly irritated and annoyed. "It would be fun to put that German back in his place. He is far from the noble leader he tries to be." He rubbed at his chin in anticipation.

Alfred grinned widely. "Well, if you guys think going for him is the best option, I do, in fact, have a plan that we can use. We can do it now, in fact. I'll bring you five, and someone can go get Yao and Angelique. We'll need backup. Get ready and we can go."

xXxXx

Ludwig shut his front door, stepping tiredly into his house. He tried not to make much noise; even though he lived alone, he instinctively was as silent as possible. Plus, he could tell by the lack of furry bodies attacking him that his canines were resting, and he valued their rights to sleep as much as any human's. He glanced at the clock on his wall; it was already midnight.

 _I'll go take a shower and then I can go to sleep_ , he thought, looking forward to getting clean and then crashing on his bed.

Before he could even think about walking into his bathroom, there was a frantic knocking at the door. It wasn't a _"hello, please open up, I want to sell you something,"_ knock, but a _"open the door now because I need help immediately,"_ knock. Ludwig jogged to the entrance, subtly annoyed at the change of plans. When he opened the door, however, two frightened emerald eyes met his own.

His visitor was none other than Bella Martins, one of his comrades. She tended to be one of the peacekeepers when it came to _Soldaten,_ but she was one of the fiercest warriors Ludwig knew.

"Ludwig, you have to help me!" she wailed. The small woman was shaking, clutching her chest as she caught her breath. Tears ran in a fluid stream down her cheeks.

"Well, what is it?" Ludwig placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

Bella panted for a few more moments before she was capable of choking out, "It's Abel! Oh, God, Abel has been abducted!"

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Grazie**_ **(Italian): Thank you**

 _ **Gute Nacht, wenig Italienisch**_ **(German): Good night, little Italian**


	17. Chapter 15

**A/N: To my guest reviewer (thanks for reviewing, btw), yes, Abel (Abel Morgens) is the Netherlands. In this chapter, Luxembourg, who goes by the name of Luca Trausch, will have an appearance. Gotta love these two and Belgium; they're just the sweetest siblings.**

xXxXx

"Kidnapped?" Ludwig spat, tightening his grip on Bella's shoulder. "Like, abducted?"

The Belgian nodded, locks of bright blonde hair sticking to her tear-stained cheeks. _"Mon dieu_ , he's gone! We were out going to the store, and Luca saw some animal that he thought was interesting. It was a stray cat, so the three of us went to check it out. Abel was standing to the side, about fifteen feet away from us while Luca and I were paying attention to the cat, and some people just ran up to him and attacked him! I don't know who they were or where they came from, but they were Hawks. They had the symbol on their sleeves. Luca and I tried to go after them, but it looked like they had knocked him unconscious. No one saw us, no matter how loud we screamed. No one is out at this time."

Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "Where is Luca now?" he demanded.

"He's out looking for any trace of what the Hawks could have left behind."

"You left him alone? _Verdammt,_ Bella! You should know that you shouldn't split up after someone has been attacked! You could have been hurt too! Hell, who knows if Luca hasn't been ambushed by now?"

"I'm sorry!" she wailed. "I had to tell you, you're our leader! And you know Luca, he does what he wants to."

Ludwig sighed tiredly, shaking his head. "All right. No matter how badly you fear for him, Abel is strong and he knows how to handle himself. He will not let the Hawks take him down without a fight."

That statement seemed to calm Bella the tiniest bit, and she stopped crying, although she continued to tremble. "What are we going to do now?" she whispered. Before Ludwig could answer her, Bella's cellphone went off.

"Who is it?" the leader demanded. Bella's green eyes widened.

"It's Luca! He must have found something!" She automatically pressed _answer_ on her phone's screen and held it to her ear. "Brother! Have you found something?" Ludwig looked on as Bella talked rapidly to her brother. They only spoke for a few long moments before she nodded, said that she would see him soon, and hung up.

"He says he _sort of_ found them. He says that they were foolish and left some footprints occasionally in the dirt. He saw what car they got into, but they drove away before he could do anything."

"All right." The German grabbed his jacket from the coat hanger that was by his side. "Where is he?"

"At the corner of Robin and Green Street."

Ludwig pondered for a short second, then nodded. "I know where that is. Come on, get in my car. We'll pick Luca up, look around for clues for a little bit, then start searching places where Abel could be. I have a few ideas."

It was all Ludwig could do to not drive as fast as he could once the two of them entered his car. Gang or no gang, there were still laws in place, and the German was in no mood to explain why he was speeding in the first place. It was agonizing, but they eventually did arrive at where Luca said he would be. Due to the low light of the midnight streets, it took a second for either of them to see the Luxembourger.

"There he is!" Bella gasped, pointing in the direction of her brother. His blond hair seemed to glow in the dim street lights, and his emerald eyes, which were almost identical to his sister's, shone with worry. Over where his heart would be, there was the symbol of the swords sewn onto his jacket, marking him as one of _Soldaten._ Ludwig pulled to the side of the road to let him in, and the man leaped right into the vehicle as soon as it slowed to a stop.

 _"Hallo,_ Luca," Ludwig greeted. "Have you found anything?"

"Greetings _,_ Ludwig. No, I have not found any...particular _object_ , if that is what you are asking. There were occasional footprints, but nothing more."

"Well," grumbled the leader, "that makes things difficult for us."

"Really?" Luca muttered, his green eyes widening in feigned surprise. "I thought it would be so simple!"

Bella gasped, shoving her brother's shoulder rather violently. "Don't say that to your leader! Be respectful."

"But I—"

"Listen to your sister, Luca," scolded Ludwig. "Say something like that again and I will _personally_ make sure you regret it."

The Luxembourger folded his arms, pouting slightly. "Geez, all right. Never mind," he murmured in contempt.

Ludwig sighed heavily, his shoulders slouching the tiniest bit. He was exhausted, and all he wanted to do was turn around, drive home, and go to sleep, but he knew that he could not do that. Not as long as one of _his_ gang members was in trouble. "Just watch yourself. Now, Bella told me that you saw them escape in a car. Can you tell me what car it was exactly?"

"Can I tell you the model of the car, what year it was made, which country it was made in? No. But it was white."

"Did you get any of the license plate? Anything at all?"

Luca shifted his eyes toward the night sky, thinking deeply. "Uh...there was a three in there somewhere, I think. And a seven, and _maybe_ an X. I'm not sure about that one though."

"That's useless. Was it a van?" Luca shook his head, his blond locks flying. "Right..." Ludwig fell silent, and he shut his eyes and leaned his head against the steering wheel. "I might...I have ideas of where they could have taken Abel. We could check their headquarters first. That's the most likely place, and the only place where I'm certain they could be. They'll probably attack us if we get too close, but that's a risk we'll have to take. You are both brilliant fighters, so I'm not too concerned."

"I've just texted Elizabeta and she said that she and Roderich could assist us if we needed help," Bella said sharply. "Plus I'm sure that Kiku would come and help is if need be."

Ludwig nodded. "You're right. Help from Eliza and Roderich would be great. Tell them to go somewhere near Arthur's garage, but not too close. We're still figuring out what we're trying to do."

As Bella obeyed her leader's orders, Ludwig resumed his driving. When a few minutes had passed, he pulled into a convenience store parking lot, which was dark, rather isolated from other buildings, and relatively close to the Hawks' headquarters. The lights that surrounded the parking lot were all either flickering or completely broken. The three of them leaped out of Ludwig's car, glancing around for any other people. They instantly heard footsteps coming from down the sidewalk, and as soon as they had sight of him they realized that he was Kiku.

"I came as quickly as I could," the Japanese man explained. "I saw your car pulling into this parking lot, Ludwig, and ran over here fast."

"Thank you. Where are Roderich and Elizabeta?"

"They're coming," Bella put in. "I texted Eliza and told her where we were."

Not two minutes later, a couple of dark figures made their way from the street sidewalks to the parking lot, where they reunited with the rest of the group. Roderich and Elizabeta were both wearing dark gray sweatshirts with the symbol of _Soldaten_ embroidered into the back.

"We came as soon as we heard," Roderich muttered, his violet eyes narrowing in distaste. "This is strange. Something like this hasn't happened in ages."

"In ages?" Elizabeta's outraged cry drowned out her companion's complaints by a long shot. "Something like this hasn't happened _ever!_ When's the last time someone heard of members from a rival gang appearing from nowhere and kidnapping a full-grown man? It makes no sense! Those shit-faced imbeciles are going to be put back into their proper places," —Elizabeta clenched her fists— "no matter how long it takes. If no one else does it, then I will."

Ludwig sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "All right, then. Elizabeta, I don't doubt your strength or your spirit, so you, Roderich and I are going to be the ones to approach the garage and see if we can spot Abel. If we see him, I will send Elizabeta to Bella and Kiku; you two will hide a decent distance away from the Hawks' headquarters, about three or four blocks away. This is in case they try to escape from the building with Abel. If they do so, try as hard as you can to stop them. Luca, you are going to hide somewhere near their vehicles so you can tackle them if they try to make a run for it in their cars."

Luca nodded. "Sounds good."

As the group began to disassemble in response to Ludwig's orders, Kiku grabbed the leader's arm and tugged him aside.

"What is it, Kiku?" the German questioned, his blue eyes narrowing into chips of ice.

"Who is going to tell Feliciano about this?"

Ludwig released a breath of forced laughter. "Feliciano does not have to know."

"Are you serious?" There was a sudden gleam of rage in the Japanese man's dark eyes, a large and frightening contrast to his usual emotionless gazes. "If he is to be a part of this gang, he has to know what is going on inside of it. We can't just leave him out of it. If you do not want to tell him, then I will, but it is going to happen."

Ludwig's expression also turned rather dark. He already was about six or seven inches taller than Kiku, so it didn't take much for him to seem threatening. "Kiku, don't forget that I am your leader. While you are my second-in-command and I value your opinion greatly, I still hold authority over you. Do _not_ think that you can go against my orders and not expect to be punished. By disobeying me, you don't only put yourself in danger, but the whole gang as well." Ludwig turned away from his second-in-command as if he weren't listening anymore and was going to walk away.

Kiku lunged forward and roughly grabbed Ludwig's arm, his fingers clutching harshly at his sleeve. "That is not the point!" A dark scowl settled on his face. Kiku, although small, was stubborn and could be extremely violent when he wanted to be. "We cannot sugarcoat Feliciano's view on what we do. There are dangers that he is going to have to be able to face, even if it isn't this one. If he cannot handle what we do, then it would be better to drop him."

Ludwig released a frustrated sound that was strikingly similar to a cat's hiss. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Feliciano is _not_ going to let me get rid of him. His love for his brother is too great. If there is any chance, any chance at all, that joining this gang will help him get vengeance on Lovino's attackers, then he _will_ take the risk." Ludwig paused abruptly, his gaze settling on the ground. "Anger can achieve miraculous things sometimes, Kiku."

"So you don't want to tell him in fear that he will leave?"

The leader thought for a moment. "I realize that the affection he holds for his brother may outweigh the fear he will feel when he hears about this. But fear is stronger than anger most of the time. When it comes down to love, rage, and fear, it i

s difficult to foresee which one will come out on top." Ludwig halted his speech once more. "And I...there is so much potential in him, Kiku. I don't think anyone else sees what I see. I don't want to lose someone as valuable to _Soldaten_ as he is."

His Japanese counterpart made an unbelieving face, as if he was not convinced. "I don't think that is the case at the moment. At this moment in time, Feliciano is not valuable to us. It does not matter how angry he is. If he is unable to fight, then he means nothing to the gang." Kiku locked eyes with his leader, forcing him to hold eye contact. "No, Ludwig. I think he is important to _you._ You do not see a fighter in him, you see a _friend."_ Kiku's eyes softened and were replaced with a calm look of understanding. "I wish I could call you my friend, but we both know that would be a lie. We are comrades, nothing more, but...you've been so distant since...since Gilbert..."

 _"Don't."_

"Anyways, Feliciano could be that friend. You know that he is little and incompetent, and you want to make sure he doesn't get hurt, shield him from the horrors of violence. But he has already experienced it, whether you like it or not. So we are going to get Abel back, go home, and tomorrow, you will run Feliciano through the dangers he could face. All right?"

Ludwig opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. After a few moments of analyzing Kiku's words, he decided that the disrespectful tone he was hearing from his second-in-command didn't matter. He was right. Feliciano could not be hidden from the full experience, not if he wanted to become a full and wise member.

"All right."

xXxXx

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Verdammt**_ **(German): Dammit**

 _ **Hallo**_ **(German): Hello**

 _ **Mon dieu**_ **(French): My God (Side note, the languages spoken in Belgium are French, Dutch, and the tiniest bit of German, so Bella's foreign speech might shift throughout her appearances. French, however, is the most widely spoken.)**


	18. Chapter 16

***IMPORTANT* A/N: I'm only going to say this once: I'm going to try to cut down on the amount of Author's Notes I use. To add to that, a lot of new characters will be popping up here and there, and they are given names that I gave them (since they don't** _ **have**_ **names in canon) so I've done something.**

 **The prologue has a complete, updated list of all of the characters in all three gangs. If you see a character with a name you don't recognize, then check the prologue. I promise it will be there. I just don't want to have the reviews consisting of "who are they?" alone. It's annoying and I don't want to have to answer them.**

 **Onto today's chapter!**

xXxXx

Ludwig leaned heavily up against the cement wall of what was Arthur's garage. Roderich and Elizabeta were stationed around the building as well, staying low and hidden. The window of the garage was only a few feet away from where Ludwig was positioned, but he didn't want to make any further movements until he was sure that he wouldn't be seen. He clutched his pistol in his gloved hands tightly, breathing in and out to keep calm.

Keeping low to the ground, Ludwig inched towards the window, careful to be as silent as possible. He paused for a few moments, listening intently for any voices. No matter what the mission, it would be difficult to fight off the Hawks face-to-face. While _Soldaten_ were strong and intelligent, the Hawks were many, as well as having the same weapons as them. If there were a sufficient amount of people at the headquarters, Ludwig and his comrades would be done for.

After a minute or two, Ludwig decided that there was probably no one in the garage. Alfred and the rest were a rather loud group, and from what he had seen, they argued with each other constantly. If there was anyone in the garage, he most likely would have heard one of them by now. Taking a deep breath, Ludwig leaned upwards and peered through the window.

He had seen the interior of the Hawks' headquarters before, but had never been inside. The area was less of an actual garage and more like an office, complete with a long conference table and a whiteboard. A maze of bookshelves also stood along the walls of the room. However, if it were going to be compared to an office, it would have to be a very unprofessional one; papers lay askew in all directions, garbage littered the floor, and the whiteboard was covered in stains and messy doodles. The only way the leader could make out these details was because of the moonlight shining through the lone window and prior knowledge. All lights had been turned off, and it looked like it had been a while since anyone had been in there. Ludwig had met Arthur before, and he thought that this was rather unlike him. If this was _his_ property, why was it that he hadn't tidied it up at all?

There was obviously no one in the garage at the moment, so Ludwig decided he would try to get inside. Just as he came to this decision, Roderich peered from behind the corner of the building. Ludwig locked eyes with him and nodded in confirmation before leaping to his feet and grabbing the bottom of the window. To his surprise, the window flew open when he pulled it up, revealing the thin mesh of the window screen. The German paused to listen for any alarms. When he heard nothing, he harshly placed both of his hands firmly on the mesh and forced the screen out of the wall. He winced when the metal of the screen hit the cement ground, but no sirens sounded when he did this either.

"Roderich!" he called softly. The Austrian's violet eyes met his own, and he pressed a finger to his lips. "No, Roderich, there's no need. No one is here. We can get in now."

The black-haired man nodded, turned, and signaled for Elizabeta to join him. Not five seconds later, the woman appeared at his side and the two of them ran to Ludwig.

"Now," the leader muttered, "I am going to go in with Roderich and search the place. Elizabeta, you are going to run to the others if we find anything. This could very well be a trap, so we need someone on the outside. Luca is stationed near the vehicles already, so if they try to come out of the building or try to find an escape route using their cars, they will fail. Roderich, this window is big enough for us to climb through. Let's go."

Ludwig climbed through the window with ease, followed immediately by his Austrian comrade. Elizabeta gave them a thumbs up, her jade eyes sparkling with mischief, before leaning nonchalantly against the side of the building.

The two men stuck close to each other as they searched the garage for anything. The area reeked of oil and old paper, and their boots crunched against various grime from the unclean floor. It was dark in the building, and they didn't have any flashlights, so the moonlight that came in from the window was the only source of light that they had. Ludwig dropped to his knees and squinted in the darkness as he peered underneath the table.

"Roderich, you check behind the bookshelves. I'll...try and feel my way around the table." He might have looked ridiculous, yes, but there was no other way. Once he had shuffled blindly beneath the table without finding a single clue, he grunted with frustration and called out to his counterpart. "Have you found anything yet?"

"No, I—" The Austrian broke off suddenly as Ludwig heard a soft hitting noise, as if Roderich had just walked into something cushioned. Roderich gave a sharp gasp of fright, then fell to his knees. "Oh, my God!"

"What?" Ludwig growled. He tried to rise to his feet but knocked his head roughly on the bottom of the table. He released a harsh curse and backed out from under the desk before trying to get anywhere else.

 _"Mein Gott,_ Abel! Abel, are you all right?"

 _"What?"_ Ludwig fell beside Roderich. His comrade was frantically shaking the warm body beside them, who was obviously unconscious. After a few moments, Abel groaned and swatted Roderich's hands away.

"Leave me alone," the Hollander hissed. "Or you know what? Do it. Hit me. I'm not going to tell you _anything,_ Francis."

Roderich paused and met Ludwig's frantic eyes. The German shook his head in disbelief and reached forward to place a gentle hand on Abel's shoulder. He flinched, but made no effort to speak or throw his hand off.

"Abel," the leader muttered. "Abel, it's not Francis. He's not here anymore. It's Ludwig. Roderich and I have come to rescue you."

Abel's emerald eyes opened slowly, blinking as he adjusted to the low light of the garage. He shivered noticeably and pulled his scarf tightly around his face. He sighed deeply in relief.

"So they're gone," he murmured, his voice muffled by the fabric covering his lips. "Thank God. _Dank je._ To the both of you."

With another pained gasp, Roderich bolted from his position and sprinted towards the window in a very uncharacteristic manner. "Eliza! We found him! Go!"

Elizabeta attempted to glance past Roderich in an attempt to check up on Abel, but the Austrian placed a hand on her shoulder and shoved her away from the window. Rather than putting him in his place as she normally would have, the Hungarian woman shook her head clear of any invading thoughts and bolted on her way to Kiku and Bella.

"Abel," began Ludwig once more, "can you tell me anything that any of the Hawks said to you about what they were doing? Or anything you overheard?"

Abel waited for a moment as he thought about his answer. "Well...no. Someone knocked me unconscious as soon as him and a few of his comrades forced me into his car..." A faint snarl appeared on the Hollander's lips as he spoke. "But before that, I could hear nothing but their complaints about how I wouldn't stop struggling, and how...and how they 'had business to do.' It took at least three of them to force me down, though, since I tried my hardest to put up a fight. There...were just too many." As the shame of being a grown man and allowing himself to be abducted, Abel's eyes dulled with embarrassment.

"You did brilliantly," complimented the leader, patting his shoulder. "No matter how hard you fought or how strong you are, no one is a match for what they put you up against. Three against one is not a fair fight, no matter the cause."

"That's the problem with these damned Hawks," put in Roderich from across the room. "They don't fight fair. They have no honor; they fight to win. Alfred is nothing but a child with an army of brutes that he uses to get what he wants. They have nothing at all that we should envy." He paused for a second, then finished, "Except, perhaps, their numbers."

The three of them waited for an agonizing twenty minutes before Elizabeta popped her head back into the window. Kiku, Bella, and Luca were all alongside her, and Bella leapt through the window as soon as she laid eyes on her brother. Luca trailed close behind, and both Ludwig and Roderich stood back to let the siblings reunite. Bella held Abel around his neck, keeping him close, while she and Luca searched his body for any wounds.

"Are you all right?" the Belgian fretted, running her fingers through Abel's mud-stained hair. "You're not hurt at all?"

Abel shook his head. "No, I'm fine. You were all amazing."

"Yes, we all did great, but...there's still something that I fail to understand," murmured Ludwig. "We know it was them who captured Abel, but why did they just leave him here instead of setting up even the slightest bit of security? There's no one here, the window was unlocked and I could push the screen out easily. It's like they didn't even try."

Elizabeta, who was standing close by her leader's side, shrugged. "Perhaps they only did it just to scare us. Look at where we are: this garage is one of the only places we _know_ the Hawks come to meet." The Hungarian kneeled down, scooping up a few of the papers that were littering the concrete floor. "And look at these papers. They're all blank. There are no plans—" she shuffled through the other papers briskly, obviously becoming more and more frustrated— " _anywhere!_ This is _ridiculous!_ They're playing with us!" She glared up at Ludwig, her green eyes gleaming with rage. "And you do _nothing_ about it! You never launch any attacks! All you do is _wait_ for them to come and do something to us, and then you fix it with your half-assed missions!"

The German's eyes lit up with utter disbelief, and his lips curled into a snarl. "Then what the fuck should we do about it? Nothing?" He motioned to Abel. "Are we going to let our comrades get captured like this and not do anything? The next time something happens, are we going to sit on our sorry asses and not go after them just because it happens all the damn time?"

"You two, perhaps if you sit down and speak civilly we can sort this out," interrupted Roderich. "And Eliza, you should speak to your leader with a little more respect."

Elizabeta rose from her knees, threw the papers violently to the ground, and met Ludwig's icy blue eyes with contempt. "You don't deserve respect," she hissed in his face. "There doesn't _have_ to be a next time! You are unbelievable. If you were half of a decent leader, you would find Alfred and put him in his place! Instead, we are going to go home, forget about this whole situation, and act surprised when it happens again in a few weeks."

"You want me to lead our gang of... _how many_ members do we have left? Twelve? Oh, that's right, ten, since Antonio and Lovino are gone now. Ten. We have ten. That's not _nearly_ enough to fight a war! Are you completely braindead?"

"No. What I _am_ is intelligent enough to know that if we don't do anything, we'll all be dead! Picked off, one by one! And by the way, _Ludwig,_ we have _eleven_ members. Remember little Feliciano? _You_ brought him into this mess! I've put up with your shit up until today and I'll continue to do so if need be, but if Feliciano is killed because of one of these missions, I will turn you in to the police myself."

With that, Elizabeta had exited the building via the window and was gone in the night. The remaining members of _Soldaten_ paused, unsure of what to do next. Kiku strode over to Ludwig, who was still stunned and defensive from Elizabeta's sudden outburst, and placed a pale hand on his shoulder.

"Go home," Kiku suggested softly. "I can bring everyone else home. You look exhausted and you need to sleep."

It didn't take more than a second for the doleful German to agree. He walked, defeated, out of Arthur's garage and into his car. As he drove carefully down the streets of the city, he noticed a red firetruck racing in the direction of his house. He gave no thought to it, wondering who it was that needed emergency services at this time of night. However, as he continued his drive to his house, he heard the sounds of sirens, their volume increasing as he drove down the closest road to his house.

Before he could even comprehend what was going on, Ludwig rounded the corner that his home was on, and prepared to pull into his driveway.

What he was greeted with, on the other hand, was something that he thought he would never see: his house, the only home he had ever owned by himself, was glowing brilliantly in the dark night as it was gradually eaten by amber flames.


	19. Chapter 17

There was no way Ludwig could process what he was seeing; he hadn't slept in a day and a half, and the image of his home up in flames was a pretty surreal thing as it was. He instinctively slowed his vehicle to a stop as he pulled up next to one of the various police cars. In the moment before he came to terms with what was happening, Ludwig look note of how breathtaking the sight actually was. The flames that were licking up the outside of the house matched the lightening dawn horizon almost exactly, and the smoke that was thrown up into the air blended into the still-dark sky. It was a dramatic, even gorgeous sight.

Or it would have been, if it weren't his own house that was burning to the ground.

 _My dogs,_ was the first comprehensive thought that forced its way to the front of his mind. _My dogs are still in there! All three of them!_ Moving at the speed of light, Ludwig fought his way out of his car and sprinted to the first police officer he laid eyes on. Before he even had a chance to open his mouth, the man spoke.

"Are you the owner of this household?" he demanded in a stoic tone. Ludwig could only nod, and the man continued, "We can't find the source of the fire at all. The flames had already spread too quickly for anyone to trace the cause. One of your neighbors called emergency services and got us out here."

Ludwig was momentarily mesmerized by the hypnotizing patterns of the deadly flames. "My dogs were in there," he breathed, his voice on the verge of breaking.

The officer tilted his head to the side. "Your dogs?" he asked. "Are you sure? How many did you have? What did they look like?"

"I had three. A German Shepherd, a Doberman, and a Hov—"

"Come with me," interrupted the officer. He strode towards the back of an ambulance, where, in the company of a young woman who was holding their leashes, were Ludwig's three dogs..

Ludwig dropped to his knees in astonishment, covering his mouth as a single tear ran down his cheeks. "How the hell...?" He buried his face in Blackie's fur as his companions crowded around him, greeting their master with generous kisses. "How did they get out? I keep them locked indoors whenever I'm...out somewhere."

The officer's eyes widened in surprise. "They were already outside when we arrived, all three of them. They didn't seem to be traumatized at all, just cold and scared. They were fine physically as well, no burn marks on their skin or fur. I don't think they were ever inside when the fire started in the first place."

Ludwig stared down at his canines, who had nuzzled against him in the cold of the dawn. "That's...impossible."

"Hey, if I may ask, where were you that you needed to come home at this time? It's nearly four-thirty in the morning."

A streak of white panic shot down Ludwig's spine. He thought harder than he ever had before, frantically trying to conjure up a believable story to tell the officer. _How ironic would it be if the police caught a gang leader right here, while trying to help put his house fire out?_

"I, um...I just got off the night shift at where I work. You know the fast food business: twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week." It was a poor attempt at humor, but was at least a decent story.

"No, I've never worked in the fast food industry before."

The officer and Ludwig tried hopelessly to keep up a conversation as the pair of firetrucks parked in front of the German's house slowly extinguished the fire. The policeman seemed to be keeping Ludwig's mind at the real issue at hand; the issue that Ludwig was now virtually homeless. The leader appreciated the other man's attempt at lighthearted chatter, but was too clever to realize that it was nothing more than forced sympathy. It wasn't long before Ludwig wasn't even listening to the officer's anecdotes. It was then he realized that he had to tell Feliciano and Kiku, as well as the rest of his comrades, about this situation.

"Excuse me, sir, I have to make a call." After a few seconds of hesitation, Ludwig decided to call Feliciano first and let Kiku have his rest after the recent mission.

xXxXx

Feliciano was awoken by the irritating buzz of his cell phone going off. He debated over just ignoring it and going back to sleep, but he decided against it since he wasn't one to take risks nowadays. When he looked at the caller ID on his phone, he rubbed his eyes in confusion when he saw that it was Ludwig.

"Ludwig?" he grumbled sleepily. "Are you all right? Why are you calling me at this time of day?"

"Feliciano. _Gott,_ Feliciano, I..." The Italian had never heard him like this: so emotional, so...sad. There was no better word for it, just sad.

"What is it? What happened?"

"My house, Feliciano. Something...or some _one_...started a fire in my house, and now it's burning to the ground. My dogs are fine, thank God, but it's completely up in flames."

Feliciano had never felt sorrier for anyone in his entire life. "Oh, Ludwig...you poor thing, I...come over. Come over right now and we can talk about this."

"I don't think that the officers would just let me leave. My dogs are still here. I can't leave them." The Italian could feel the desperation in his friend's voice, as if he was on the verge of tears.

"It doesn't matter. Leave them with the policemen. You need to see me right now, I can tell. You need to be with someone you know. Tell them you'll be back in an hour. It's fine."

He heard a tired sigh from the other line. "You sound like someone's mother."

"I got it from Elizabeta," Feliciano said proudly, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that the Hungarian woman would do when she was feeling sarcastic.

"I...I'll try to come over, then. I just...I don't want to look at my house right now."

"I understand," whispered Feliciano.

And truly, he did.

xXxXx

It was only twenty or so minutes until Ludwig, looking broken and beaten and exhausted, appeared in Feliciano's doorway. The Italian greeted him carefully, not knowing if he was going to cry or yell or pass out, or all three.

"Well," started the leader, "they let me come. It took a little bit of negotiating, but eventually the officers gave in. I told them where I was going, so they have your address for when they need to contact me—oh, sorry about that."

"It's all right," Feliciano murmured, grabbing his wrists and pulling him fully inside the house. "It's not like I have anything to hide from them."

"I'd hope not."

"Well, except for what _you_ dragged me into," the Italian said playfully, nudging Ludwig's shoulder with his knuckles. The leader met his eyes with a forced smile. "So tell me what happened. We can sit down...somewhere." Feliciano glanced around his apartment. "Here, on the couch."

When Feliciano had sat himself down on the sofa, he looked up at Ludwig with expectant eyes. The German sat beside him, close enough to feel some of his warmth but far enough to keep comfortable.

"Well...before I even tell you about the fire, there's something else first. Do...do you know who Abel Morgens is?" Feliciano shook his head, his amber eyes sparkling with concern. "He was...abducted by the Hawks last night, so I had to launch a rescue mission. Kiku, Elizabeta, a few others, and I went to find him." The Italian's mouth was agape with shock, his gaze bright with worry. "We eventually found him unconscious in the Hawks' headquarters. The building wasn't locked, no one was guarding him...it was abandoned. I don't know why they just left him there."

Ludwig fell silent, staring at the ground, while Feliciano's expression altered with an idea. "You said that someone might have set your house on fire? Do you think that capturing...Abel...might have been a distraction—like, a lure—so that they could get to your house more easily?"

The two of them locked eyes for a long moment as Feliciano's suggestion sunk in. "I...I thought about it for a second, but...there's no reason...That would explain why my dogs were outside. They must have broken in through a window or something to let them out, since the house was going down anyway and there wouldn't be any evidence of a break-in."

"You say there's no reason, but Ludwig, they don't _need_ a reason, do they? It's not like they fight fair. Lovino once told me about Tony, Alfred's former second-in-command. He didn't seem very fair."

Ludwig's blue eyes glinted with remembrance as he thought about the man in question. "Oh, yes. Tony was extremely headstrong, but he was also young. Do I believe he deserved death? No. He was just too naïve to see the dangers. He provoked Elizabeta, and there was an accident."

"Elizabeta would never kill someone willingly," breathed Feliciano, thinking of his surrogate mother. "She's just not like that."

"I believe that Elizabeta _would_ willingly kill someone," Ludwig countered, remembering their earlier argument. "She wants to launch attacks on the Hawks. She thinks trying to keep the peace isn't going to keep the Hawks away." Feliciano didn't respond. "I don't think she was trying to kill Tony; she was just trying to teach him a lesson. But is one death, albeit the death of a second-in-command, reason to torment us like that? A reason to keep coming back, over and over again, to do something different to one of us? I don't care what they think; injuring Lovino was not justified. How dare they take away one, no, _two_ of our members? How dare they reduce us to less than we already are?"

Feliciano noticed that Ludwig was clenching his fists so hard that they had turned pure white. He placed one of his hands on Ludwig's and the other on his shoulder. "It's all right."

Ludwig didn't say anything in return; to Feliciano's surprise, his eyes shone with tears. "It's not. I just...I just don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore. I try to help, but there's always something wrong with the decisions that I make." Ludwig's voice broke on the last word, and before he could see the first of the tears, Feliciano leaned forward and trapped the leader in a tight embrace. He rested his cheek in the German's hair as Ludwig pressed his face into Feliciano's shoulder. The Italian didn't hear any sniffling or feel any trembling from his leader, but he felt the coolness of a single teardrop. Knowing that this brave, selfless fighter was taking comfort in someone as inexperienced as Feliciano filled him with a never-ending peace. It was a long time, _so long,_ since the Italian had been the comforter, not the comforted. It felt...nice.

"I'm...afraid. I admit it. They're losing their faith in me. They want to fight so badly, but it is _my_ responsibility to keep them safe. I have to keep them from being hurt, but every time I try to protect them, they've come a little closer to believing I'm a traitor." The words fell from Ludwig's mouth like a cascade as he told Feliciano things he hadn't even acknowledged himself. "I'm _not_ a traitor, Feliciano. If we fight, and we're hurt, it's my fault. If we don't fight, we're cowards. All I want is to deal with Alfred. But I _can't,_ not if _Soldaten_ may lose lives."

"Shh, Ludwig," Feliciano whispered, tasting the name on his tongue as he tightened his grip on the other man. _"I_ haven't lost faith in you. I never will."

Silence fell. Ludwig stayed put for a few more seconds and then pulled away from the Italian, showing no sign of his sudden display of emotion. "I'm sorry about that."

"There's no need to be." Feliciano reached forward and placed a calming hand on the area between Ludwig's shoulder and neck. Ludwig, to the Italian's surprise, moved his hand on top of Feliciano's and tightened his grip on it. "Everyone is afraid of something. I think that you've just gotten better at hiding it than most people."

"I suppose so." He released Feliciano's hand. "Anyways, this situation is something that I need to talk to you about. Now that you are aware of the dangers that come with being in this gang, you need to take a moment to think about this. Having someone you know being in extreme danger can be both mentally and physically tiring. Are you really going to be able to fight through it when events like this happen?" Feliciano opened his mouth to reply, but Ludwig continued. "I won't sugarcoat it for you, I'll be blunt: you may even be the one to be in this extreme danger. There are only eleven of us now, and that means you make up a greater percentage of the gang. And no offense, but you are quite little and unexperienced compared to those you may be put up against."

"I _can,_ Ludwig, but _you_ have to stop doubting me. I know I am small, I know I can't fight. But I've only been through two training sessions, and I am doing quite well with the knives. _And_ I'm fast. I'm not as useless as you make me out to be."

"You're not useless," put in the German unexpectedly. Feliciano noticed in that moment how exhausted his leader looked; there were dark rings under his eyes, his icy gaze was reduced to a dull blue, and his normally neat hair was falling onto his forehead. Feliciano leaned forward and brushed his hair back onto his face.

"You haven't slept since you dropped me off, haven't you?"

To Feliciano's shock, Ludwig chuckled. "No, Mother. I was too busy saving Abel's life."

"And you have nowhere else to go?"

"I...no. I'm sure that Kiku or Roderich would give me a place to stay, but neither of them would take my dogs in as well."

"What about your brother?"

Ludwig's expression suddenly saddened. "I can't go live with my brother. I'll tell you about him one day, Feliciano, I just...can't. I can't right now."

Feliciano's eyes brightened as he thought of a brilliant idea. "Ludwig. Look at me. You can come live here!" The German only stared at him in utter shock, so Feliciano began to explain himself. "My apartment doesn't allow dogs either, but there are kennels you can put them in and still visit! Or I'm sure one of your friends would take them in!"

"Feliciano...you don't have to."

"Yes, I do! You're my friend, and you've already done so much for me!" He hugged Ludwig again, tighter this time. It wasn't contact out of a desperate desire for comfort, but rather one between true friends.

"Thank you. If that is the case, then I accept your offer."


	20. Chapter 18

**Two Days Later**

xXxXx

Alfred glanced arrogantly around the darkened alleyways, four strong comrades standing bravely by his side. Arthur, Ivan, Natalya, and Yao stood at the ready, each of them holding a preferred weapon. Arthur kept his fingers locked tightly around his trusty longbow, while Ivan clutched a rather large rifle. Natalya was in possession of several daggers, and Yao, an experienced Chinese man who was one of Alfred's oldest allies, held onto an old-looking guandao.

Another blond man was positioned at the other end of the alleyway, his teal eyes sparkling with contempt. In his hands was a sizable shotgun, and sewed onto the sleeve of his coat was a silver symbol. It wasn't the swords of _Soldaten_ or the bird of prey of the Hawks; rather, it was a vicious-looking wolf perched on the top of a snowy mountain. The man's face distorted into a harsh sneer, showing no fear as he was confronted by the five Hawks. A few strands of his chin-length blond hair fell in front of his eyes, but he made no move to brush it away. Instead, he stood his ground, aiming his shotgun at the group in front of him.

Behind him was a small girl, no older than fourteen or fifteen years of age. Her turquoise eyes stared wonderingly at the Hawks, her purple hair ribbon flying in the night breeze. She clutched onto the man's green jacket, her expression racked with fear.

"What the hell do you want from me?" the man snarled, shuffling ever so closer. Alfred didn't reply, nor did any of the people beside him. Instead, he stepped forward and raised a pistol to meet the height of the other man's shotgun. "Do you even know who I am?"

Natalya walked forward a few steps until she was standing right beside her leader. "Vash Zwingli, second-in-command of _Vargar av Is._ Skilled gunman, an extremely good shot. However, he is quite hot-headed and quick to throw insults. Quite a deadly combination, if you ask me." The platinum-haired woman grinned maniacally. "Do you need more description of yourself, Mr. Zwingli?"

The man, Vash, appeared to become even angrier, if possible. He cocked his shotgun, narrowing his eyes threateningly. "Come near me and I'll shoot. I don't care who you are; you are in the territory of _Vargar av Is,_ and if you step forward I will not hesitate to blow your brains out of your skull." Even from his position, Alfred could see the little girl grab tighter onto Vash's jacket.

"And we are quite far into your territory, are we not?" Ivan observed.

Arthur rolled his jade eyes. "Your lack of border defense _astounds_ me."

A vicious sound erupted from the depths of Vash's throat, but before he had the chance to fire, Alfred held up a hand. "Don't shoot. Let me tell you about why we're here."

Vash seemed to be swayed by Alfred's words, so he lowered the gun, although the rage did not leave his eyes. "All right, but do it quickly before I change my mind."

Alfred's sapphire eyes met Vash's turquoise ones as he began his explanation. The young man, who was normally so arrogant and carefree, seemed to shift into a serious and well-behaved leader.

"The five of us are here to talk to Berwald. We want to discuss an alliance with you; _Soldaten_ have been increasingly violent lately, and we do not have the fighters to deal with them." A total lie, but how would Vash know? "Is he around?"

Vash scowled. "I am not aware of where our leader is at this time. I am not even sure if he is out."

"Surely he is," muttered Yao. "Why would you be out and not your leader?"

"That's none of your business. I can go find someone to see if they know."

Alfred nodded. "That seems like a good idea. I would appreciate that."

Vash turned his head and glanced down at the little girl behind him. His gaze softened with affection, and he patted her blonde hair. "Erika, why don't you go and see if you can find someone else? I know for a fact that Lukas and Matthias are out at this time," he told her, his voice exceedingly gentle. The little girl, Erika, nodded and scampered away.

It took not ten minutes before Erika returned. Holding onto her hand as she led him to the scene was a short man with silver hair and blue-gray eyes. When they reached where Vash and the Hawks were standing, he turned to the second-in-command and began to speak.

"Berwald is out, yes. But what I want to know is why you had to make Erika and I run back all this way."

Vash scowled. "There was no way I was going to let these scumbags stay here in our territory without someone watching them. I wouldn't put it past them to try something. I'm not that much of an idiot, Emil."

"I didn't say you were," he replied, then turned to face Alfred. "I can bring you to our leader if you so desire. Follow me."

Emil led the eight of them to an abandoned warehouse. It wasn't their headquarters, just a piece of their territory; however, it was extremely valuable. It had four floors and was relatively well-built. The reason it was out of use was because of a rat infestation, but the vermin had since moved on to other locations. The building was soon forgotten by most people, and that allowed Berwald to claim it for his gang. No one ever bothered them, not cops, other gangs, or people wishing to buy the building. After a few additions to the place, it looked almost decent.

When Emil brought the Hawks inside the building, he flicked a switch to reveal two blond men standing at a table in the middle of the room. One was significantly taller than the other, with glasses that shielded striking teal eyes. He wore the symbol of the wolf on his sleeve, but beneath it was a red band that marked him as a leader. His face was exceedingly sullen, as if he wouldn't take crap from anybody, even another leader. The other man was quite small, and had light blond hair that fell over his brown eyes. He looked a bit more curious than his counterpart.

Upon landing his gaze on the taller one, Alfred's eyes lit up. He approached the threatening man with no fear, and the smaller man's face contorted with astonishment.

"Alfred," the large man, Berwald, grumbled in a deep Swedish accent. "It is...odd to see you again. What is it that you want?"

The smaller man, Tino, nudged his leader's shoulder with his own. "Don't talk to him like that!" he crooned, tilting his head so he could see the man's face. "Come, sit down! We like to keep the peace here. As long as you are in our territory, you are friends!" He stared suspiciously at Vash, who rolled his eyes in return.

"We're friends as long as you don't try to kill us," the Swiss man spat, "and I wouldn't put it past you to do so."

"There will be no killing," put in Berwald. "There will be no killing from us or from you. You will tell me why you are here, I will voice my opinions, and you will leave. Is that clear?"

"Oh, it is _crystal_ clear," said Alfred.

"Then you may begin."

"We are here to discuss an alliance with you. The other day, a few members of _Soldaten_ attacked our friend Ivan here. I do not know who it was, but I can only assume that Ludwig was the one to order the attack. We were able to catch up to the abductors and rescue Ivan in time to save him, but they got away before we were able to figure out who they were."

Ivan, although he was six feet tall, had plastered the most pitiful look on his face. "I do not know how they got me," he whimpered. "I tried to fight them off, but there were too many."

Berwald narrowed his eyes in doubt. "You are taller than _me_ ," he chided, "and you were unable to defend yourself from your abductors?"

"There were many, sir."

"Anyways, we knew that we had to do something that would stop those maniacs from attacking one of us, so we came up with a plan. I assume that you have heard of Ludwig's house being burned down?" Berwald nodded. "It was us." From Berwald's side, little Tino gasped and clutched onto his partner's sleeve. "I guess it worked, because they haven't given us trouble since then."

The Swedish leader glared at Alfred for several long, agonizing moments. "So...because someone failed at kidnapping Ivan, you burned their house down?" Alfred nodded excitedly, his face lit up like some kind of maniacal child. "If that is the case, then I have to refuse your offer. We do not wish to harm people in that way."

Alfred's eyes widened in something that could not be described as anything but utter disbelief. "What?" he gasped, his expression darkening.

"I am sorry," the other leader muttered; Alfred could tell that he wasn't really sorry. "We are the group of peace. I do not even enjoy using the word 'gang.' I do not take sides, and if I am being quite honest, there are a few flaws in your story that I am not sure about.

"Go ahead, sir," Alfred murmured innocently. "Tell me what they are. I am not lying."

"And I am not convinced that you are telling me the truth. I have held many meetings with Ludwig, and I believe that I know him quite well. He is not one to start things. I find it difficult to believe that he would order his fighters to attack Ivan without any clear motive. What have you done to them lately? I'll answer it for you: nothing. As far as I know, there is no reason Ludwig would come after you to take down one of your members. Hell, have you seen how few people they have now? I don't think they would risk something like that."

The leader of the Hawks was gradually becoming angrier and angrier as Berwald continued to question his story. "That gives them more reason, if anything! They're trying to take down as many of us as they can before they have no one left! They're trying to even out the numbers! You have to help us!" The latter sentence was less of a plea and more of an order.

Before Berwald could speak again, Tino stepped in and interjected. "No, Alfred. And burning down Ludwig's house? That's awful! Why on Earth would that help anything? You say you're fighting for peace, but pulling a stunt like that will not be tolerated in our presence!"

The leader beside him nodded. "Tino's point is correct. That was not an acceptable action. You have delivered a clear message to us: that if we join with you, we will be forced to follow your rules. I will not do something as brutal as burning down a house, no matter who the owner is."

"He killed Tony!"

"If I remember the story correctly," Vash put in, "it was Elizabeta who killed your second-in-command, not Ludwig."

"But Ludwig did nothing to stop it," hissed Arthur. "If Ludwig were a responsible leader, he would prevent his members from fighting!"

Vash met Arthur's eyes from across the room, teal and emerald orbs glaring at each other for several moments. "I don't understand why you are so hurt by Tony's death," the Swiss man taunted him. "If he were still alive, you wouldn't be Alfred's second-in-command."

"No eighteen-year-old deserves to die, especially not like that!"

"And I always took Arthur's word into consideration!" spat Alfred. "If he didn't feel like there was an acceptable reason for Tony to fight Elizabeta, I would have listened to him. But that was a long time ago. Months pass, and views change with them."

"Aneta and Radek could tell you something about view changes," Yao murmured, speaking of the Czech woman and the Slovak man who were once a part of _Soldaten._ Once things started heating up, they left for _Vargar av Is_ for a more peaceful group to belong to. "Lovino Vargas and Antonio Carriedo have left as well, and we all know what happened to Gilbert, am I correct?" The others nodded in confirmation. "They're dropping like flies. They're scared out of their minds. That's the reason they're attacking us so viciously. They're nothing but cowards."

"And that makes it okay to burn someone's house down?" Tino growled.

Before any of the Hawks could respond to the Finnish man, Berwald stepped forward to hover over Alfred. "Our answer is no. Now get out of our territory before I finish you myself." Vash approached them and swung his shotgun near Alfred's face as a warning.

"You heard him. Leave."

"Emil and Vash, you will escort them to the edge of our borders. Let this be a warning to you, Alfred: don't you ever try to order me around in the manner that you did today. We may be a peaceful group, but we can fight as well as the rest of you."

xXxXx

"That's it," Vash spat when they had finally reached the edge of the border. "Now get out. We'll be watching you to see if you actually leave, so you best go away. Permanently. Don't come back."

Arthur bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you for the opportunity anyways, Vash." The other four of them repeated the thanks, ignoring the Swiss man's ignorant snort.

"Get out."

The five Hawks led themselves across the border and began heading back to their own headquarters. When they were far enough away from the other territory, Arthur leaned in close to Alfred and whispered to him, "What do we do now?"

The leader rolled his sapphire eyes arrogantly. "Don't you worry, Artie," he whispered back, bumping his second-in-command lightly with his shoulder. "I have my ways."

"You won't turn to violence, will you?"

"Depends." At the horrified look on his comrade's face, Alfred chuckled. "No, I'm kidding. We won't hurt them yet. We'll give them a few more chances to see sense."

Arthur sighed with relief. "Thank you, Alfred. I know you want to get as much vengeance as you can on Ludwig, but...we can't go around slaughtering people. If you kill Berwald in an attempt to take over his gang and gain his territory as well as his fighters, no one would follow you."

"I realize that. But if Berwald's group continues to refuse an alliance, I will have no choice but to use force."


	21. Chapter 19

**Quick A/N: Sorry for all the time jumps lately. They'll stop. I need them to tell the story correctly, though. I apologize if it seems rushed, because I feel like it does. It seems awkward and out of place to me, but there's no other option. Enjoy.**

xXxXx

 **One month later**

xXxXx

Feliciano sat up straight in his bed, his amber eyes wide open and his heart beating ten times a second. He clutched at his bedsheets in terror, panting as he came to terms with what woke him up that suddenly. The Italian broke out in chills and a cold sweat, so he wrapped his thin arms himself and curled underneath his covers.

For the fourth time in the past week, he had a vivid nightmare of Lovino. His brother was not recovering any faster with the therapy, so the hospital extended his stay for a month. Feliciano understood that they were doing all that they could to help his twin get better, but it was hard to be polite to the doctors when they were keeping him from even looking at his brother. Lovino was only going to be in therapy for the next week or so, and no matter what happened, he would be able to return home. Feliciano kept having nightmares of Lovino finally returning, when one of two things happened: either the therapy made him forget Feliciano entirely, or he turned on him and wanted nothing to do with his baby brother.

He didn't think he could live with either of those.

Shivering, Feliciano decided to get up and walk around his apartment to warm himself up. The clock on his bedside table read 2 a.m., so he figured that Ludwig was surely still asleep. He padded into his kitchen, poured himself a cup of water, and sat down at the table. He stared at the glass of the cup for a few moments until he heard a shuffling noise. He knew who it was instinctively without having to look up.

"Why are you up at this time of night?"

Feliciano raised his gaze from the glass and up to Ludwig's own eyes. He sighed deeply, setting his elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand. "I could say the same for you."

"I never fell asleep. I've been in bed since eleven, but I've been awake the whole time. What about you?" When Feliciano didn't answer, Ludwig continued. "It was a nightmare, correct?" A nod. "Was it about Lovino again?"

"Yes," Feliciano breathed. In the month that the Italian and the German had been living together, they had learned a significant amount of information about each other. Most were small, trivial things, like what they took with their tea, their favorite movies, and other things along those lines. What Ludwig had found out about his roommate was that he was still extremely paranoid of losing his brother to the effects of amnesia.

"He'll be fine, Feliciano," whispered Ludwig, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what else I can tell you."

"I know he's fine. I know he's well taken care of. It's just...hard. I don't know what is going to happen when he comes back. What if he remembers you? What are we going to do then? I don't want you to leave."

Ludwig stared at the wood of the table, then released a heavy sigh. "It's late. You should try to go back to sleep." Before Feliciano could respond, his friend was out of sight and had presumably returned to his own bedroom. Feliciano sat still, contemplating if he would be able to go back to sleep. When he made his mind up, he stood and walked over to the door to the guest room, which Ludwig had taken as his own. He hovered there for a few moments before knocking lightly and opening the door.

"Ludwig?" he whimpered. "Are you asleep?"

The lump in the blankets shifted and sat up, his eyes wide in the night. The German met his eyes from across the room. "No. I almost was, though."

Feliciano stepped forward, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I'm sorry." When Ludwig didn't respond, he asked, "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course." Ludwig repositioned himself to the other side of the bed. "Come here."

Feliciano obeyed, crawling underneath the covers and resting his head on the pillow. Ludwig reached out and grasped his shoulder. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

The Italian looked at him with wide eyes as he cuddled into the bed. "I wanted to know if you would tell me about your brother," he whispered. "I haven't even seen him before. When am I going to be able to meet him? Plus, you get really angry whenever I try to bring him up." He felt Ludwig tense beside him. "I'm sorry, don't hit me!"

The German sighed, running a hand through his feathery hair. "I won't. I would never hit you. I...I will tell you about my brother, but it might give you nightmares."

"Tell me."

"All right. Settle down and I'll begin. Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" Feliciano nodded.

"Gilbert was eight years older than me. Our family supposedly got along fine, until I was born and my mother was killed giving birth to me. Our father was extremely unfair towards Gilbert since he was albino. He had white hair and red eyes, and many people put him down for it. But...he was the most courageous man I had ever met." His ice blue eyes shone with love and nostalgia. "I aspired to be like him from the very start. I have never met someone like him since then.

"Anyways, our father used to beat him. Frequently. He never hurt me, even though I was the cause of my mother's death. I guess I made up for it because I got good grades, I was athletic, and I was good-looking for his standards. He didn't feel the same way towards Gilbert, however. He was ashamed of Gilbert because of how he looked. Gilbert was his own personal little punching bag, but that only drove him to learn how to defend himself. Before long, my brother grew stronger than my father and was able to hold his own.

"Things got bad quickly. My father fell into a depression and became an alcoholic. One day when Gilbert and I came home from school, we found out that our father had hung himself in his bedroom closet. I didn't know what was happening; I was only seven. Gilbert was fifteen, though, so he knew exactly. He called the police and then our grandfather.

"Opa took care of us until I was able to buy my own house and get a job. He was better than our father, but he still wasn't a huge fan of Gilbert. He adored me, though, and gave me practically anything that I wanted. He said that I was going to be one of the most successful people in the whole world, and I would own a mansion one day. He used to joke about how I would be so rich that I would be able to buy him a beach house in the Bahamas, Australia, Italy, and the like. That never happened, though, since he passed away from a heart attack two years ago."

"Oh, Ludwig," Feliciano crooned, moving closer. "I'm so sorry. My grandfather passed away when I was a child as well."

Ludwig smiled gently, one that wasn't because he was cheerful but because he was glad to have someone to talk to. "Anyways, I mourned him, but Gilbert didn't. Not as badly and not for as long as I did. We moved on with our lives.

"Later, when he found out that I had formed a defensive gang, one that was keeping other people safer, he was ecstatic. He was so proud of me. He wanted to join immediately and I let him in without question. This was still very early on in my leadership and I had not appointed a second-in-command yet. I was considering appointing Roderich, but he was not vicious enough. I turned to Antonio, but he was not sharp enough. I considered Kiku for a long time, but he came to me one night and told me that his place was not as second-in-command; it was Gilbert's.

"So I asked my brother if he wanted to, and I have never seen someone accept a position so quickly. He was the most wonderful second-in-command. He organized patrols better than me, didn't take crap from anyone, could fight, helped me set up missions, could strategize...he would have been a much better leader than me."

"I'm sure that's not true." Feliciano's warm breath rushed across his face, and Ludwig shivered. The Italian reached up to toy with his hair. "Did something happen to Gilbert? You keep talking about him in past tense."

Ludwig's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. His eyes shut and he forced Feliciano's hand away from his hair.

"Are you all right? Ludwig, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No. I will, just...I haven't talked about it ever, really.

"So one night, we were on patrol, just the two of us. Heracles, one of our members, had reported some signs of a possible trespassing, so we went to check it out and see if it was true. It turned out that it was. When we got there, Alfred, Arthur, Francis, and a few others were there, as if they were waiting for us. It all went downhill from there."

xXxXx

 _Gilbert's crimson eyes glowed with hatred as his gaze landed on Alfred. He snarled, bunching his hands into lethal fists. Beside him, Ludwig tensed as he clutched his pistol firmly in his hands._

 _"Well, well," the leader of the Hawks taunted. "We've found them! I didn't think it would be this easy!"_

 _Arthur grinned from beside his leader. "It seems they haven't even tried to hide themselves."_

 _"Go back to your own territory, you little shits," hissed Gilbert. "There is no reason you should be here. Get out of my sight before I finish you myself."_

 _Alfred made no move to retreat; instead, he stalked closer. "Oh, no. You see, there is a reason for this event. Do you, in fact, remember the brutal murder of Tony, my late second-in-command?"_

 _"It wasn't murder," put in Ludwig. "He provoked Elizabeta. They fought and she won. His death was purely an accident. Elizabeta is honorable and would never kill someone on purpose."_

 _"That doesn't matter. Tony is dead and it is your fault. We have decided that the noble leader of Soldaten, the great soldiers, must go." At his words, his comrades raised their weapons and aimed them at Ludwig with no hesitation._

 _"You'll have to get through me first!" Gilbert spat, shoving his little brother out of the way. "You will have to kill me before you kill Ludwig!"_

 _Alfred glanced at the other Hawks, his sapphire eyes narrowed as he considered the option. "Well, what do you guys think? It seems Gilbert is too arrogant for his own good. He would not make a satisfactory leader. Perhaps he should go instead."_

 _"Do it. Kill me. Just don't kill my baby brother." His voice cracked on the last word and his eyes flooded with tears. He looked back at Ludwig, and his gaze was filled with nothing but love._

 _"Well. All right." To Ludwig's shock, it was Alfred himself, not one of his comrades, who raised the pistol._

 _He fired once._

 _Gilbert gasped and clutched at his stomach before plummeting to the ground, groaning in agony. Alfred grinned and moved a hand in front of Arthur when his second-in-command raised his gun to fire again._

 _"Don't," warned Alfred. "I've already done the deed. He's done for. Let the Germans say their goodbyes." When he finished speaking, he turned and stalked away, followed by those who were led by him._

 _Ludwig instantly dropped to his knees and gathered his brother in his arms. He noticed, briefly, that the scarlet blood that was staining his clothes and the ground around them was the same color as his eyes. He ripped off his jacket and pressed it onto Gilbert's bullet wound, hoping to staunch the flow of blood. The wound was just between the bottom of his ribcage, at the very top of his stomach._

 _"Looks like…" Gilbert coughed for a second before choking up blood. "Looks like this is it, brother. Stay safe, all right?"_

 _For the first time in years, the first time he could remember, Ludwig's icy eyes filled with tears. He grabbed his brother's face, feeling the warmth of his cheeks seeping through his leather gloves._

 _"Don't you dare say anything like that. I'll get Elizabeta. She knows how to handle this."_

 _"Elizabeta wouldn't help me," Gilbert said, chuckling a little bit. "She hates me. She hates me the most out of us all."_

 _"That's not true. She sees you as a friend, as one of the best friends she's ever had."_

 _"That doesn't matter right now," whispered the elder brother. He pulled Ludwig down close so that he could talk to him better. "Look. Listen to me. You had better find Alfred, you hear me? Find him. Kill him. There is no reason that piece of shit should have any reason to live. He kills in cold blood. Leaders do not have to kill. Take him down, save others from him. For me, if no one else. Please, Ludwig. Do you understand?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"What did I just tell you to do?"_

 _"Find Alfred and kill him."_

 _"Good. Look, Ludwig...I know I never say it, but...I love you." His voice was very faint now as the last strains of life melted from him._

 _"I love you too, brother. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you in the slightest."_

 _"No need to be sorry. I'll...keep an eye on you...when I'm gone, okay?"_

 _"I know you will. I love you so much."_

 _Gilbert smiled, letting Ludwig rest his forehead on his own as the world darkened around him and he felt no more._

 _And for quite possibly the first time in his life, Ludwig sobbed._

xXxXx

Feliciano watched in silent shock as Ludwig's tears fell from his eyes and onto the pillow. In shame, the leader turned away from Feliciano and forced himself to stop crying,

The Italian latched onto his shoulders. "It's all right, Ludwig. That's awful. That's the most terrible thing I've ever heard of. It's okay to cry."

"I could have stopped it. He was the only one I had, and I let him die. We were foolish, both of us."

"No, no, no. Gilbert only did what he thought was right. By the sounds of it, there was no stopping him either. And...he was friends with Antonio, yes?"

"Yes."

"I think I might have heard of him before. He used to go out with Antonio and Francis a long time ago, before Francis left for the Hawks and Gilbert…" He trailed off. "Is he the one that identified as Prussian, not German?"

"Yes."

"That's him, then."

As silence fell between the leader and trainee of Soldaten, Feliciano nuzzled his face into Ludwig's shoulder. He closed his eyes and thought about falling asleep, but then something popped into his head.

"Do you think Gilbert would have liked me? Do you think he would have approved of me as your apprentice?"

It took Ludwig a few moments to respond. "Feliciano...he would have adored you. He probably would have tried to steal you away from me as your mentor."

Feliciano smiled, turning away from his leader and snuggling further into the blankets. He decided that that was enough reminiscing for the night, since it was clearly making his leader upset. "I don't think I can walk back to my own room, I'm so tired. I hope you don't want me to leave."

"Not if you don't want to, Feliciano. Not if you don't want to."


	22. Chapter 20

**A/N: Wow this took a long time to write, and it's not even that good. It's not long, either, just some subtle GerIta I guess. I apologize, I only have like five more weeks left of school so, as you can imagine, I'm just about ready to die with all the exams and shit. Anyways, this isn't very eventful, but I wanted to get** _ **something**_ **out at least before I'm swallowed whole by the hell that are finals. Enjoy, and I'm sorry if this chapter isn't too great.**

 **Also holy shit chapter 20 that's a lot of chapters**

xXxXx

Feliciano struggled through the remainder of the night restlessly. He didn't have any more _nightmares_ , per se, but his dreams were unsettling and vivid. He kept a mental log in his head of how long he would sleep for, judging it by the clock on the bedside table, to try and prevent any strange dreams. Feliciano would only sleep for about twenty minutes at a time before he would awake and snuggle back into the blankets, trying to fall unconscious again. He would stare at Ludwig's stoic sleeping face, the blank ceiling above their heads, and out the window before slipping back into the realm of sleep once more.

It was a frustrating cycle, but he supposed that it was better than having nightmares. Besides, having Ludwig next to him while he slept was comforting, and he hadn't had that before now. His friend was quite warm and nice to latch onto, but Feliciano could tell that he wasn't sleeping very soundly either; throughout the night, the Italian could feel him shifting and grumbling to himself, and Ludwig had even woken him up at one point.

Then came a stage, at around four or so, when both of them had managed to fall asleep and stay asleep. Feliciano knew that Ludwig got up much earlier than him, and he was quite curious to find out when that was. Before he could give it much thought, he sunk into a dreamless slumber and wasn't woken again.

At least, he wasn't woken until the body beside him rose from the covers and attempted to get himself out of bed. To the Italian's sleeping brain, all he was was a source of warmth, so when he felt him move, he instinctively shot out a hand and grabbed Ludwig's arm.

"Don't go. Come back to sleep with me." Feliciano's speech was slurred and heavy with exhaustion and he didn't want to bother opening his eyes. "What time is it? Why are you awake?"

"It's about five-thirty," Ludwig responded. "You can sleep in, but I have to get up."

"Why? It's Sunday. You don't have to work."

"It doesn't matter. This is when I get up, Feliciano."

The Italian didn't release his grip. "Sleep in with me." He pried open his amber eyes and glared at his friend. "You didn't go to sleep until two in the morning last night. And I felt you moving around. You've only been asleep for, what, an hour and a half?" Ludwig turned to stare daggers at Feliciano, and he noticed the rings that had formed under his eyes and the paleness of his face. "You're exhausted. You can sleep for a few more hours, trust me."

His companion sighed and laid back down, looking irritated. "All right. But if this messes up my sleeping schedule, it's your fault."

Feliciano released a squeal of delight and nuzzled into his pillow, feeling satisfaction at upholding his friend's well-being. He fell back into unconsciousness as the warmth of the leader returned underneath the sheets. The two of them rested side-by-side until around nine a.m., when Ludwig left his bed for good. Feliciano, on the other hand, rolled onto his side and fell back asleep for another hour and a half.

When it was around ten-thirty, Feliciano felt rested enough, so he untangled himself from the sheets and stumbled into the kitchen, desperate for some kind of caffeine. He guessed that his roommate had already made coffee, since he could smell it even from the hall. When he reached the kitchen, he noticed that Ludwig was at the table, reading something while he sipped something from a mug. Feliciano noted that he was already dressed.

"Ah, you're finally awake," Ludwig commented.

"Yep," the Italian grumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. It was warm and still fresh. "Have you done anything since you got up? You certainly look like you have."

"Uh, yeah, I jogged down to the kennel to see my dogs for half an hour, and then I came back."

"How are they?"

Ludwig shrugged, staring intently into the depths of his coffee. "They're fine. They were thrilled to see me and they gave me quite a hard time when it was time for me to leave. It's strange not having them around anymore."

Feliciano sat down at the table in the seat across from him and lifted the mug of coffee to his lips. "I've always wanted a kitten," the Italian muttered to himself after he took a sip of his drink. "Lovino won't let me, though."

"You've told me this before," his companion reminded him.

"Oh. Do you like cats? I know you're more of a dog person, but cats are cool too."

"They're fine."

Feliciano's amber eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Are you okay, Ludwig? You seem a little on edge."

"Mm-hm. I'm just stressed out about what's been going on and I don't know how I'm going to be able to get enough money to pay for this situation. I have to keep paying the kennel to keep my dogs there and I have to buy myself things that I lost in the fire. Plus I'm going to have to pay you back for letting me stay here."

Feliciano looked utterly shocked, and his jaw dropped slightly when Ludwig ceased his speech. "Ludwig, no! No, you don't have to pay me back! Honestly, you don't! Please, _please_ do not think that you have to pay me back. I am rather financially stable. Well…" He trailed off when he thought about the cost of Lovino's inevitable hospital bill. "I am for now, anyways."

"Feliciano, please. You aren't obligated to keep me here at all, and yet you are. I have to repay you somehow."

The Italian launched from his seat and latched onto Ludwig, hugging him close. The leader stiffened in his arms, his breath catching in his throat. "I'm doing this because you are my _friend,"_ he whispered, tightening his grip on the German's shoulders. "You don't have to repay me, honest."

Ludwig sighed deeply and patted Feliciano's back before gently shoving him away. "All right, fine. That certainly removes some stress from me. But if you ever feel like I owe you something, then don't hesitate to tell me."

"All right, but I won't! So don't worry!" As the Italian left to get dressed, Ludwig watched him go with the faintest of smiles on his face.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Feliciano asked when he returned. He plopped down in the chair beside Ludwig and grinned brightly. "Have you thought about when you're going to take me out in the gang yet?"

Ludwig shrugged. "Before I do, there are many factors to consider. It is in my best interest that you tell Antonio that you've joined. I am still unsure as to how the others will react to you. Plus, after a violent spell like we just had, the streets are very dangerous."

"The fire was a _month_ ago!" Feliciano whined. Ludwig looked at him sternly, narrowing his eyes as a warning.

"Don't forget that they were being fairly dormant before then, and are now. There seems to be a pattern of them staying quiet and then attacking over the span of one night, as they did when they kidnapped Abel and set my house on fire. Therefore, we must be careful, and you are rather inexperienced. I won't take the risk of putting you in danger when you can't fight as well as the rest of us."

"But that's what you _always_ say! I'm never going to _learn_ if I don't know what I'm supposed to be learning _about!_ Every time I want to go out, it's, 'you're too small! You can't fight hard enough! There's no way you'd last five minutes!' Maybe if you actually let me try and go out with you guys, you would see what I can do! You're not helping me learn by keeping me cooped up all the time and making me throw knives at a wall." He glared over at his living room, where Ludwig had taken a piece of pegboard and stuck it to the wall. That was where Feliciano had been doing his training for the past month, save for a few times Ludwig had taken him out for endurance running.

"Feliciano, it's just...things are difficult now. Things have never been like this before. We're in such an odd situation, and no one knows what to do, not even me. Nothing is predictable nowadays."

"But we're not going to learn unless we try!"

"Feliciano, you will listen to me _right now,"_ the leader snarled. " _I_ am in charge of this gang, and I will _not_ be pushed into bringing you somewhere that I don't feel is safe." He leaned in close, his icy eyes lit with blue fire. When the Italian tried to move away, Ludwig shot out a hand and grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly.

"Ludwig, stop!" Feliciano begged, wriggling in his grasp. In his panic, a few tears escaped his amber eyes. "That hurts!"

"Do you understand me?"

Feliciano drew a deep breath. "Yes, sir."

"Yes, what?"

"I won't order you around."

"Good." Ludwig released his arm, and the Italian immediately rubbed the spot. When the leader realized that his actions would probably leave a mark, his eyes widened. "Oh, God, Feliciano, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I…" In a silent apology, he reached over to touch the other's cheek, his heart twisting rather painfully when he noticed him flinch. "Don't cry, please…" He awkwardly tried to brush the tears away, unsure of how to go about comforting someone. When Feliciano didn't make any effort to shove away his hand, the leader raised another to remorsefully caress where he had hurt him.

Feliciano sat perfectly still with his eyes shut for a few moments, before sniffling and standing up in an instant. He looked away from Ludwig before more tears could fall.

"Feli, come back," Ludwig murmured, rising to his feet.

"I'm confused. Do you want me to join or not?"

"Yes, Feliciano. There is nothing that I want more than for you to fight for your brother beside me." The Italian didn't respond for a few moments, but when he looked up and met Ludwig's eyes, there was more pain in them than he had ever seen before.

"Here's something: remember that day when I brought you to the park so we could talk about what I was capable of? Before Abel was captured, before you brought me shooting, before Lovino woke up. Remember that? Well, that night, Elizabeta paid me a visit."

In a flash, Ludwig remembered the Hungarian woman's distaste of his earlier decisions. He wondered, briefly, if she had shared any of her doubts with the young Italian.

"Do you know what she told me? She said that the main reason you were so quick to take me in was because you will stop at near nothing to get back at Alfred for what he's done to you. Yeah, sure, it's understandable from a certain point, but...is that all that I am to you? One more step in order for you to have your vengeance? Is that what all of your members are to you?"

"Never. Of course I want to teach Alfred a lesson, but...your interests are important to me as well. No matter what."

"Truly?" Feliciano's voice became softer, returning to the airy tone he usually used.

"Of course."

"Then show me! Bring me out on patrol or something the next time you can. I want to learn more! I don't want to train, I want to _see."_

Ludwig sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. "All right, fine. I'm sorry if I haven't been paying attention to what you want to do lately. If you want, I can see if we can go out tonight. It's probably a good idea to check up on things anyways."

Feliciano's eyes lit up brighter than the stars. "Really? Thank you!" He shot forward and threw his arms around the leader's neck.

"I'll take you, but on one condition. Before we go, you have to tell Antonio that you've joined."


	23. Chapter 21

Feliciano stared down at his cellphone, his thumb hovering over the place on the screen that would dial Antonio. This was something that needed to be said face-to-face, of course, with Ludwig there to provide more information, but he did have to call him first in order to get him to come over. The Italian took a deep breath, but before he was able to tap his phone screen, a notification popped up.

It was a call, and it was from an unknown number.

Without any hesitation, Feliciano accepted the call and held the device to his ear, his heart beating rapidly.

"Hello?" asked the person on the other line. She was female, and Feliciano felt like he had heard her voice before. It was like she was from somewhere he had been but not for a while. "Is this Feliciano Vargas?"

"Um, y-yes," he stuttered.

"This is Evelyn, the nurse who was taking care of Lovino Vargas. I have not seen him since he was released a few hours ago from his treatment, but he's resting now. I have called to inform you that the treatment was not a success. He is unable to recall much of his past details, but as you know, he recalls you and the life the two of you built together."

"And?"

"And so there's not much that we can do for him now. Perhaps if he stays in a familiar environment for some time, he'll be able to remember a bit more."

Feliciano hummed in agreement, bliss spreading steadily through his body as he realized that he would be able to see his brother. It wouldn't be long before they would be reunited, and Lovino would be able to come home. If he was lucky, Lovino wouldn't be able to remember Ludwig, and hopefully they would be able to get along.

"So when is he going to be discharged from the hospital?"

Evelyn paused for a moment as she thought. "Well...uh...later. I'd say around two or three in the afternoon."

"Oh, that's wonderful! I'll drop by later on!"

"That sounds great. I'll see you then, Mister Vargas."

"Yep!"

As soon as Evelyn hung up, Feliciano bolted to where Ludwig was standing in his living room and launched himself into the leader's embrace, his arms locked around Ludwig's middle. He nuzzled his face into his shoulder, warm tears of euphoria rushing in a steady flow down his cheeks. The German returned his affections, confused beyond belief as dozens of thoughts raced through his mind. What was making Feliciano sob like this? Was Antonio angry at him? Was he fine with it? What was happening? Ludwig brushed a lock of hair out of Feliciano's face, the strands sticking stubbornly to his wet skin. The leader cupped his face and tilted it so that Feliciano had no choice but to look him in the eyes.

"Hey," he muttered, "what's up? Did Antonio say something bad to you?"

For a few moments, Feliciano did nothing but stare at Ludwig's face. Then, suddenly, his lips stretched into a grin and he released a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "No, Ludwig, no! I didn't get to call Antonio yet in the first place!" He wrapped his arms around the leader's neck and continued to weep into his shoulder. He wasn't really sure if he was crying out of apprehension, joy, or relief, but what he did know was that this flurry of emotions was going to make him pass out if he didn't calm himself down. "It-it's Lovino! I got a call from the hospital and they said his treatment was a failure. That doesn't matter, though, because he's going to be able to come home! He's coming home! We can go pick him up later today!"

Ludwig smiled, something that was rare and genuine. "That's great, Feliciano. He doesn't remember me or Antonio, correct?"

Feliciano wiped the tears from his eyes, sniffling softly. "No, but...that doesn't mean things are going to be too different! Since he doesn't remember you, we can just tell him the truth: that you're a friend of mine who needs a place to stay. And Antonio...he'll figure something out."

The leader ran one of his warm hands down Feliciano's back, and then pushed him away. "You had better call Antonio and tell him."

xXxXx

Antonio's reaction was rather surprising. When Feliciano broke the news about Lovino, he didn't say anything and the two of them fell into an awkward silence. After a few moments, once Antonio's shock had faded away, he let out a sound that was something between an airy laugh and a whimper.

"Really?" the Spaniard breathed.

Feliciano giggled, his system flooding with relief that he wasn't angry. "Yes, Antonio. I'm going to go pick him up this afternoon. I'm not sure if it would be ideal for you to come, but you can stay at my house with Ludwig so when we come back you—" With a gasp, the Italian dropped off as soon as he realized that he had mentioned Ludwig.

"Ludwig?" Antonio questioned. "Feli, why is Ludwig at your house?"

Terror shot through Feliciano and tears threatened to spring to his eyes. "He, uh...he's going to...he's helping me with…"

"Since when were you two close enough for him to be over your house?"

"I…"

"Feliciano, is there something that you have to tell me?"

The Italian swallowed, his heart racing with fear. "Antonio...I can't tell you this over the phone. Come over and...I'll tell you what has been going on."

"I will. I just...wow. Does this mean I'll get to see Lovino this afternoon?" he asked, his voice full of hope.

"Yes, Antonio! I just hope that he, at the best, remembers you or, at the worst, isn't hostile."

"Oh, Feliciano. If there is one person in the world who can see past my Lovi's anger, it's me. I'll come over now."

The two of them hung up after that, and Feliciano rushed to Ludwig to tell him the news. "Antonio's coming over right now!"

"What? Why?"

Feliciano paused and chuckled nervously. "I, uh...might have slipped up and told him that you were living here."

"You what?"

"Sorry!"

Ludwig sighed. "It was probably for the best. You were going to tell him anyways, and this isn't something you were going to try to keep from him forever, was it?" Feliciano shook his head, his stomach twisting violently with apprehension.

"No. Just...stay in the living room until I bring Antonio in, okay?"

It took Antonio a shockingly short time to arrive at Feliciano's apartment. When all was said and done, no more than five or so minutes had passed. When the Italian opened the door to let his friend in, there was automatically an awkward and tense atmosphere surrounding them. Antonio's eyes were wide with emotion, and his hair and clothes were ruffled.

"Come in," stuttered Feliciano, stepping aside.

"So what's the situation?" Antonio strolled inside and set a hand on his hip, glaring at Feliciano suspiciously.

"I…"

"Is Ludwig here like you said?"

"Yeah, he's...in the living room, I think. Come sit down and we'll talk."

Ludwig was in fact in the living room, sitting silently as he waited for Antonio and Feliciano to enter the room. When they did, he stood and nodded in greeting towards Antonio. Antonio didn't return it.

"So," the Spaniard began, "no chit-chat. Tell me what's going on."

Feliciano and Ludwig glanced at each other, their eyes meeting in apprehension. Feliciano took a deep breath and decided to come straight out with it.

"Antonio...I've joined _Soldaten_." At first, there was silence, so he continued. "Ludwig is training me."

There was a frown on his friend's face as the words sunk in. He opened his mouth to respond, closed it, and then opened it again. Finally, he met Feliciano's gaze and muttered, "And?"

"And?" Ludwig hissed. " _And?_ What do you mean? Surely you're against this!"

"Not really," Antonio said with a shrug. "I could already kind of tell."

"You knew?" whimpered Feliciano.

"I suspected. You've been very secretive these past few weeks, and there's been talk of a new member. Just the other day, I saw Feliks talking to Luca about when they were going to be able to meet him. They didn't name any names, but they know. Add that to the fact that Ludwig's house was burnt down and none of us gave him a place to stay, as well as you not talking to me lately...it was obvious."

"And...you don't care? You're not angry?"

Antonio shrugged. "I was at first. I told you all the risks, and I'm sure Ludwig has as well. You went against my preferences, but ultimately, it's your life. I won't scold you for something that is your decision. You are free to make your own choices, no matter what the consequences might be." He turned to Ludwig. "And I know that you will protect him as best you can and train him well."

The serious expression that the Spaniard was trying to pull off disintegrated in a matter of milliseconds and was replaced with pure excitement. "Besides, we're going to get to see Lovino today! I can't stay very angry at anything right about now!"

Feliciano felt as if the elephant resting on his chest for so long had been suddenly lifted off of him. He was on the verge of tears—Ludwig was going to take him out tonight, Antonio didn't care about him joining the gang, and Lovino was coming home. In that moment, everything felt like it was going to turn out all right.

"I'm thinking of taking him out on patrol later, maybe at around nine or ten. I'll show him the territory," Ludwig muttered.

Antonio tipped his head to the side in confusion. "I don't have anything against showing him our territory, but don't you think you should wait a few days until Lovino has settled in? Plus, we haven't seen him in ages; Feliciano and Lovino are probably going to want some time to themselves while they catch up. Add that to his amnesia, and Lovino is going to be very overprotective. Feliciano is the only one he remembers, and I don't think he'll appreciate someone he has no recollection of bringing his precious brother out on the streets."

Feliciano was a tad irritated at having his plans postponed, but Antonio had a point. "He's right," he murmured. "We should wait a few days and let Lovino get used to your presence, Ludwig."

"That's true, I guess. All right. We'll wait. Speaking of Lovino, it's nearly two. Maybe you should get going, Feliciano, and Antonio and I will stay here." Feliciano glanced at the clock that was hanging in his living room and saw that it was in fact time to leave.

"Do you mind if I use your car?" he asked, turning to Antonio, who in turn shook his head.

Praying for the best, the Italian said goodbye to his friends and hopped in Antonio's red car. It was a tedious but nerve-wracking drive to the hospital, and Feliciano couldn't get his mind off of all the different scenarios of what could happen. When he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, he had to take a few minutes to mentally prepare himself for the worst.

The receptionist was at her desk as usual, and she beamed when she saw Feliciano walk through the doors. "Mister Vargas!" she exclaimed. "It's been forever since I've seen you! I heard about your brother. I'm sorry that we couldn't let you see him, but...precautions, and things like that, you know how it is."

Feliciano plastered a fake smile to his face and nodded. "It's nice to see you, too. Did you hear that he's being discharged today? I've come to pick him up."

The receptionist's face brightened even further. "Oh, that's wonderful! I'm very happy for you. He's in his room now, I'm sure. Go up and see him and I'll call the nurse and tell her you're coming."

In the young Italian's mind, it took several years for him to get in the elevator, rise to the floor that held Lovino's room, and approach the door. His heart beating more rapidly than ever before, he raised a hand and knocked. A few seconds later, Evelyn opened the door gently and motioned for Feliciano to come in. He obeyed, albeit slowly, taking his time to round the corner.

Lovino was dressed in his street clothes, not that damned nightgown they had him wear during his stay at the hospital. His hair was neatly combed and he looked fresh and clean. Before he could say anything, Lovino stood, approached Feliciano, and threw himself into his younger brother's arms. Nothing was said as the two of them held onto each other for the first time in a month. Feliciano noted that Lovino felt a lot skinnier, but he could tell it was probably from anxiety rather than not having a stable supply of food.

"Whenever you guys are ready," Evelyn whispered, "we can fill out some papers and you can be out of here as soon as possible."

Feliciano tightened his grip on his twin, but Lovino pulled away. "Come on, bastard. Let's go home."


	24. Chapter 22

"Do you recognize this place?" Feliciano asked Lovino as they stood in front of their café. Lovino was staring up at the building in wonder, his hazel eyes shining with thought as he took in the sight.

"I..." He shook his head. "It seems familiar, but I can't place it. Is this our café?"

Feliciano patted his shoulder, providing his brother with a reassuring touch. "Yes. You don't recognize the outside?" Lovino shook his head again. "Look around you. Do any of the streets seem familiar? Any of the buildings?"

"No," Lovino grumbled with a deep sigh. Feliciano met his gaze with confusion.

"I thought the nurse said that you remembered where we lived?"

Lovino shrugged. "I remember that we owned a café together, but I don't know what it was supposed to look like."

A sharp prickle of sadness struck Feliciano's heart. "Well...that's all right. Here, let's go inside and maybe you'll remember." As his brother began to stride towards the door, Feliciano lunged forward and grabbed him as he recalled what he was supposed to tell him. "Lovino, just...be aware...that there are two other people here right now."

"What?" Lovino's sharp personality shone through with that one word. "Well, who the hell are they?"

The younger shifted uncomfortably. "One is a friend. Antonio."

"Ugh, that idiot? The one who claimed that he knew me?" Lovino's face crinkled into an expression of disgust.

"Not the one that claimed he knows you, the one that does know you! Lovino, you just don't remember him is all!"

"And the other?"

"His name is Ludwig." Feliciano paused. "Have you heard that name before?"

"No, never."

"Oh. Well, he's a friend of mine and he doesn't have a house to live in right now, so I'm giving him a place to stay. He's very kind and will be no annoyance to you."

Lovino released an unbelieving snort. "If I don't know him, how do I know he's not annoying?" Before Feliciano could respond, he continued, "Ludwig is a German name, is it not? If there's one thing I remember, it's that I hate the Germans."

Feliciano sighed, although he was slightly relieved that some of his old spirit was shining through. "Come on, Lovi. Let's go inside. Please try to be nice to an extent."

"No promises."

"Tell me if anything you see is familiar," murmured Feliciano as he led his twin up the stairs. When the two walked into the kitchen, Lovino stopped dead in his tracks, raised an arm, and pointed in the direction of their coat rack.

"That," he breathed. "That is familiar to me. That symbol."

Feliciano's head whipped around as fast as it could to try and see what his brother was looking at. "What? What is it?" The Italian gasped harshly as he laid eyes on exactly what Lovino meant; his old jacket, the one he would wear whenever he went out with _Soldaten_ , was hanging on the coat rack in their kitchen. The swords that were sewn onto the jacket were facing outwards, staring Lovino in the face.

"Those swords! I've seen them before! Where are they from? Some television show? A video game?"

Feliciano placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll tell you when the time is right. How about we go and see Ludwig and Antonio?"

As Feliciano led his brother into the living room, where the other two were sitting, he braced himself for Antonio's reaction. He was aware that Lovino used to despise Ludwig, but now, maybe things could be different. Maybe they could work something out. Maybe...maybe Antonio and Lovino's relationship would turn out to be perfect.

Antonio and Ludwig were sitting side-by-side on Feliciano's sofa, two pairs of eyes wide with apprehension. Ludwig's stance wasn't as tense as Antonio's, but Feliciano could tell that the German feared for Antonio and what was to come.

Surprisingly, Lovino just let out a chuckle. "These are the sorry bastards that live here now?"

"No, no, Lovi. Not Antonio, just Ludwig."

"Ah. Which one is Ludwig?" The man in question gave a little wave in Lovino's direction. The Italian's eyes suddenly lit with hazel fire and he snarled, "Shut up."

"Lovi, he didn't even—"

"I'm Ludwig," the leader clarified, "and this is Antonio." He gestured to the Spaniard beside him, whose eyes were filled with nothing but love and admiration.

"It is nice to see you again, Lovino. I've missed you so much."

Feliciano patted his brother's shoulder, trying to force away the scowl that had situated seemingly permanently on his face. "We'll help you get better Lovino. There's no need to worry. All three of us are going to help you out." As the words left Feliciano's mouth, Lovino once again flew into a rage.

"I'm not a child! I don't need your pity!"

"What—none of us are pitying you!"

"Yes you are!" Lovino spat. He snarled with hostility and pointed a finger at Antonio. "You there. You're the bastard that thinks you know me. You've been looking at my face ever since I got in here. What the fuck is your problem, you damn creep?"

For the first time in ages, Feliciano's matched his brother's anger. "How many times do I have to tell you? You do know Antonio, and he knows you! We are willing to help you at least try to get better, and you curse at us! I won't accept it, brother. The moment you show disrespect to any of us again, you can help yourself. Is that understood?" Lovino huffed. "Is that understood?"

With a sigh, the Italian grumbled, "Yes, mother."

"Now apologize to Ludwig and Antonio. They are our guests and you should not show such attitude towards them."

"Sorry, bastards." He turned to his brother. "Can you tell me where my bedroom is? I'm tired."

"Lovino, it's three."

"So?"

Feliciano decided that he didn't want to argue. "Fine, it's down that hallway. Second door on the right."

"Grazie."

Once he had left, the three other men fell silent. A few moments passed before Ludwig said, "Well, that was certainly something." He met Feliciano's eyes, smirking softly. "I didn't know you had the power in you to yell at someone like that, especially your brother."

The Italian laughed. "I learned from the best!" he crooned. Ludwig rolled his eyes in response. Feliciano glanced over and realized that Antonio had fallen silent and was staring down intently at his hands in his lap.

"Antonio...are you all right?"

His friend looked up and met his eyes for a second, then looked back down. "I guess so. I will be, it's just...he's so different." He was quiet for a few more moments before he rose to his feet. "Feliciano, do you mind if I try to go and talk to him?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," muttered Ludwig.

Feliciano giggled and ignored the warning from the leader. "Go right ahead, Antonio. Just try to be gentle, and don't ask too many questions."

"No need to worry," reassured Antonio. "I know how to handle him, even if he doesn't know how to handle himself."

As Antonio strode away, Ludwig turned to Feliciano. "Do you really think he'll get better?"

"I don't know," the Italian answered truthfully. "He's very stubborn, and I sincerely doubt that he'll listen to anyone. He doesn't even listen to me, really. I'm not sure we can do too much to help him now."

The leader reached over and set a hand on the Italian's slim shoulder. "I know that you love him enough to want to help him, and I know that he loves you enough to listen. Even if he doesn't regain his memory, you and Antonio can help him build a new life together."

"And you, too," added Feliciano. "I don't want you to go away if he gets better. Even when there aren't any more problems with him, I still want you to be around."

Ludwig stared at the young man in front of him, his expression suddenly serious. "Feliciano, I still don't have a place to go. Just because your brother may not like me very much does not mean that I think any less of you."

The Italian smiled softly as he met the leader's ice blue eyes. "I know, Ludwig."

xXxXx

Well, this was it. Whatever Antonio said to Lovino now could make or break the relationship they would have with each other for the rest of their lives. He wanted to fix this, but...the Italian was livid now. He was like a ticking time bomb, with no way to tell when or how he would explode and destroy lives in the process. After an agonizing three minutes stood outside Lovino's bedroom door, Antonio decided he wasn't going to get anywhere without talking to him, so he raised a hand and knocked on the door.

The voice that responded was hostile and exhausted. "Go away, whoever it is."

"It's me." In a moment of daring, Antonio cracked open the door and peered inside. Lovino was huddled underneath a mountain of blankets, and his russet locks were the only thing that could be seen. As soon as he heard the voice, the lump under the covers shot up and Antonio was faced with hazel eyes flooded with rage.

"You! Didn't I tell you that I wanted you to leave me alone?"

"Maybe you did," the older man muttered, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. "But I'm not going to leave you alone, because I have to talk to you."

"And what makes you think you can just come in here like this?"

"Because I am your friend, Lovino, and friends don't leave each other to suffer!"

"You aren't my friend! I don't even know you!"

"Yes, you do! I've been your friend almost all of your life!"

"Bullshit!"

"Lovino, listen to me!" Before the younger man could retaliate, Antonio continued. "You have been my best friend for years, and I'm not going to cut off all communication with you just because you don't remember me! There is still a possibility that you can reclaim your memory, and I'm not going to let go of that."

"Well, maybe you should go! I'll just be a burden anyways!"

Antonio fell silent and listened to Lovino's heavy breathing. He was absolutely stunned. A burden? Why would Lovino think he was a burden?

"Lovino," he breathed, "what on Earth do you mean by that?"

The smallest of tears formed in the corners of the Italian's eyes. "Can't you tell?" he whispered. "I've done nothing but be an obstacle ever since this...accident. I take time out of Feliciano's day, I make you two worry about me, we still have to pay the hospital bill…" He made a frustrated noise and wiped the wetness away from his eyes. "I'm such an issue. This is all my fault. I'm so stupid, how could I even get into an accident as bad as that one?"

His companion reached over and touched his arm, earning the smallest of flinches from Lovino. "Listen to me. You are no burden. The accident was in no way your fault. It was just...it was just bad luck that it was you who was hurt and not Feliciano or I. It was Ivan's fault. No one blames you for any difficulties that have come up these past few months."

"Who the hell is Ivan? I don't know who that is! If I can't remember you, what makes you think I know who that is?"

"Ivan is a very bad man. I know I'm being vague, but...you'll know who he is in time. I'm not going to tell you just yet for safety reasons. He's part of something I don't want you involved in right now."

Lovino released a heavy sigh. "You know what? I don't care. I don't care who he is."

"The accident changed nothing, Lovino. We all love you just the same."

"That's what you say now," Lovino croaked, slithering back underneath the covers. "But that's only because I'm ill. When I'm better, you'll hate me for all the extra weight I've put on you." When he got no response, he muttered, "I understand, though, I'm angry at myself as well."

"There's no reason you should be angry at yourself," said Antonio in a serious tone, almost as if he were scolding the other man. "This isn't your fault!"

"All I want is to be better!" Lovino choked out. His voice was scared and meek, something Antonio had never heard before. "I'm not trying to be difficult! I want to remember who you are! I want to remember what I liked to do. I just...I can't. I try so hard, but I can't. All I want is to remember who I am."

The older man reached over and pulled the blankets back so he could see Lovino's face; the other scowled at the sudden movement. "And that can happen," insisted Antonio. "It can. You just need to be willing to let people in so we can help you. All of us want to help you, but you yell at us before we can do anything. The only way we're going to get anywhere is if you don't push us away. If you...if you can handle being my friend, then you're going to get better a lot faster, all right?" He held out his hand, his emerald eyes shining with affection. "Promise?"

The Italian glared at him, his mind conflicted on whether or not to believe him. After a minute or so of consideration, he reached over and shook the Spaniard's hand. "Okay, you bastard. I promise. Now leave me alone so I can get some sleep, will you?"


	25. Chapter 23

**So, school ended for me on the 17th! Hopefully this means faster updates and you guys finally getting to see the plot unravel more thoroughly.**

 **Two things: I know I've been reaaallly slow with updates these past few weeks, but school is over and now I have MUCH more time to dedicate to writing! I also realize that with the shorter chapters and the uneventfulness lately, you guys are probably really bored. Don't worry, because this is pretty much the last chapter before shit starts getting real. There won't be as many time skips or jumping around as you've seen as this story progresses.**

 **My estimate is that there are going to be 35-40 chapters of this fic when I'm done, but who knows? I have a whole bunch of stuff planned for this story that you guys probably haven't even thought of yet. My goal is to finish it before summer ends, but that is highly unlikely. Oh, well, I'm just glad I'll be able to work on this more quickly than the past few weeks!**

 **Also, I really just want to thank all of you who have reviewed, favorited, followed, or even just read or looked at this story! It's like a child to me, so I'm very pleased whenever I see that someone is enjoying it! Thank you all!**

 **xXxXx**

 **One week later**

 **xXxXx**

" _Buongiorno,_ Lovino!"

The older Italian rubbed his eyes as he trudged wearily into the kitchen. It was currently nine in the morning, and Feliciano was hard at work preparing a hearty breakfast for the three residents of the apartment. Ludwig was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading some sort of document that he got from his workplace.

"Good morning, brother," Lovino muttered, plopping down at the table as far away from Ludwig as he could get. "Are you making breakfast?"

"Of course! It should be done in a few minutes. Plus, Antonio said that he's going to be coming over to eat breakfast with us, if he's welcome."

Lovino huffed with annoyance, but it wasn't as hostile as it could have been. "Fine, whatever." Instead of scolding his twin, he turned his gaze to Ludwig. "Hey, you. Why aren't you helping my brother cook?"

Ludwig met his eyes with an equally irritated glare. "He told me he didn't want me to. He said it was better if he did it himself."

"He would probably burn everything!" chided Feliciano as he cracked some eggs into a pan.

Just as Lovino was about to retaliate, someone knocked on the back door. Lovino took it upon himself to march towards the door and wrench it open, his hands on his hips. "What the hell do you want?"

" _Buenos días_ , Lovi!" Antonio cooed, leaning forward to trap the younger man in a hug. Lovino blushed fiercely and shoved him away, too flustered to say anything other than a general complaint.

"G-get off!"

Antonio grinned widely, ruffling his hair. "It's okay, Lovino! I know you don't like much physical contact nowadays! I'm sorry." He released a hearty laugh and pinched Lovino's cheek. The Italian growled and forced himself away, grumbling quietly.

As Feliciano dished out breakfast onto four separate plates, Ludwig took it upon himself to set the table with silverware. He poured fresh cups of coffee for all of them, and the four men settled down to eat. A fairly lighthearted mood set over them as they began to share news and stories from recent times.

"Ooh, ooh, me next!" trilled Feliciano, his smile wide with laughter. "You guys should have heard what Lovino did last night!" He looked over at his brother, who was shooting Feliciano a death glare, warning him to not give away anything too embarrassing.

"Okay, so it was about two or so in the morning. I was fast asleep, but something didn't seem right, so I woke up. There was a strange noise coming from Lovino's bedroom, as if he was talking to someone." The other three looked extremely concerned; Lovino in particular looked as if he was going to explode if his twin went too far. "So naturally, I was confused and wanted to go see what it was. I tiptoed as quietly as I could into his room and kneeled beside him." At this point, Lovino was spluttering and blushing violently. "He was asleep and making lots of cute little sounds. At first I thought he was having a nightmare, but I guess not! He was muttering little things about cats and how he wanted to cuddle with them. There were even a few 'Antonio's in there too!"

Antonio and Ludwig broke out into open laughter as Lovino lunged towards Feliciano and forced his hand over his mouth, blushing heavily. Feliciano shoved his hand away with little effort.

"Calm down, calm down! I'm kidding! But you _were_ mumbling about kittens!"

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were."

"I hate cats!"

Ludwig raised a hand to silence the two brothers. "All right, all right. That's enough." Noticing that they were all pretty much finished with consuming their breakfasts, he rose to his feet and began to clean up after himself. "I'll clean, if you want," he offered.

"I'll help!" Feliciano squeaked, hurriedly collecting the plates from the table. "Lovino, why don't you go refill up some of the stuff downstairs, in the café?" The older brother nodded. "You can take Antonio with you."

Lovino automatically flushed red and scowled. "What? No way. He can go somewhere else."

Antonio, on the other hand, ignored Lovino's remarks and chuckled. "I'd be glad to help, Feliciano. There's nothing to worry about. With our combined efforts, that café will be restocked in no time! Come on, Lovi!" He grabbed the other's arm and dragged him to the lower level of the apartment.

"Well, they're something, aren't they?" muttered Ludwig as he picked up a mug off the table.

Feliciano released an amused laugh. "Oh, yes."

"If I may ask, were they... _infatuated_ with each other before the accident?"

The Italian paused in his tracks, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean?" he inquired cautiously.

"You know, in love. I am not too experienced in the subject of love myself, but they definitely seem to have a certain admiration for each other that is extremely easy to see. Hell, if _I_ can see it, it's a miracle you haven't by now."

"I _have_ seen it," Feliciano sighed, setting a plate in the dishwasher. "I'll tell you something, but you can't tell anyone, _especially_ not either of them."

"Of course."

Feliciano held out his hand. "Pinkie promise," he demanded. Ludwig linked his finger with the other's and then crossed his arms over his chest.

"So tell me."

"Antonio was in love with Lovino. It looks like he still is. The plan was for him to confess his love for my brother once he woke up from his coma, but as you can see, since Lovino has no recollection of him, there was no way that was going to happen."

"Ah, I see."

"They were the best of friends before the accident," whispered Feliciano with a wispy tone. "Lovino would never admit to it, but I am almost completely sure that he loved him too. They were always together, no matter what. Whenever Lovino was working, Antonio would grab a table and sit there for hours, talking up a storm with him as he watched him work. He wouldn't order anything, except for water or a coffee, maybe. He'd just talk to him and watch. It was endearing."

"And what would Lovino do?"

"Oh, he'd just respond with snarky little comments like usual, but you could tell he really didn't mind it at all. Hopefully it won't take long for them to regain that friendship," he finished softly.

"It takes a long time for friends to become best friends, and even longer for them to become lovers," Ludwig advised.

Feliciano made a soft little sound of doubt. "I don't think that's true," he pouted. "I mean, I've only known _you_ for, what, three months? I consider you my best friend."

The pale white skin on Ludwig's cheeks immediately faded to a bright pink. "I— _what?"_

"You heard me. You're my best friend, are you not?"

"I, uh..."

Feliciano laughed loudly, his smile stretching to his eyes. "That's what I love about you, Ludwig," he crooned. "You can tell the difference between two seemingly identical guns, but when it comes to telling someone whether or not you're friends with them, you can't do it!" He erupted into a plethora of giggles, covering his mouth with his hand.

"You—shut up!" Ludwig shot out a hand and shoved him, being sure not to hit him hard. "I can _so_ tell who is and isn't my friend!"

"Okay, then admit it!" Feliciano returned the other's action with a shove of his own. "Say I'm your best friend!"

"All right! Fine, I'm your best friend! Why on Earth does any of that matter?"

The Italian shrugged, a smug grin on his face. "It's just...fun to have a best friend, I guess." Ludwig grunted and returned to his cleaning. "So... _best friend..._ I think Lovino's settled here long enough. Don't you think it's about time to take me out on patrol yet?"

Ludwig shot him one hell of a glare, his blue gaze cutting like shards of ice through Feliciano's skin. "Depends. By how immature you were just acting, I would say no."

The happy-go-lucky smile on Feliciano's face instantly shifted to an expression of disbelief. "No?" he gasped indignantly. "Why not?"

"You can't just go around acting like a child in an environment where you could be killed," the leader explained.

"But...I promise I won't! I'll take it seriously, I promise! And besides...I really _do_ want you to be my best friend," he whispered. "I like you a lot, and...I don't know what I'd do if you decided to leave."

"Leave?" Ludwig huffed in amusement. "Where would I go?" He shook his head. "But never mind that. Immaturity aside, I suppose you've waited long enough. In fact, I'd say we could go out tonight if you really wanted to. I guess that you're pretty good with those knives by now, am I correct?"

The other's eyes sparkled. "Oh, yes! I've thrown them so many times I'm sure that I could hit something from a mile away!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Italian. Well, then, we can go out on a patrol tonight, just the two of us. But for now, let's finish up these dishes."

xXxXx

The chilly March night air seemed to be colder than it had been in years, at least to Feliciano. Then again, he always had a low tolerance for the cold weather, but he hadn't felt this freezing even in the past winter months. Even in a scarf, jacket, boots, and gloves, the young Italian was shivering violently not a minute after he and Ludwig had stepped outside.

"All right," began the leader, turning to Feliciano. "Do you know where Gale Street is?" The other nodded, hair falling in front of his face. "Okay. Well, that's about as far as we'll be going in that direction. That's the farthest point in our territory from where we're standing right here. From here, what we're going to want to do is trek east, where we'll meet up with the border of _Vargar av Is._ Don't be afraid if one of them approaches us; they tend to be very nonviolent, even if they come off as intimidating. That's why they exist in the first place: for the sake of nonviolence." Ludwig glanced at Feliciano and noticed that he had barely responded to him. "Are you okay?"

Feliciano rubbed his hands up and down his arms, nodding slowly. "Yes, I'm just...Is it cold to you?"

Ludwig blinked. "Uh, I guess so. It's bound to be cold at this time of year."

"I know, but...it seems a lot colder than usual." The Italian threw his gaze to the ground, ashamed of himself for showing weakness before they had even started the patrol. Narrowing his eyes, Ludwig reached forward and set a gentle hand on his shoulder. Feliciano gasped and flinched away from the touch, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

"You're afraid," Ludwig observed. "People tend to be more sensitive to the cold when they're scared or apprehensive or something."

"That makes sense," the other man whispered. Ludwig sighed heavily.

"Listen to me, Feliciano. I'm not going to let any of the other gangs hurt you, okay? As your leader, it is my responsibility to keep my comrades safe. We'll fight them off. I have a pistol on me, and you have your knives." He motioned to his belt and then to Feliciano's, where he had secured six or so blades to it. "We'll be fine." The Italian didn't look that convinced. "Besides, isn't it the duty of best friends to look out for each other?"

Feliciano smiled at that, a soft, genuine little grin just for the two of them. _"Sì,_ I guess it is."

"Then there's nothing to be afraid of, Feli." The shorter of the pair was rather shocked at the nickname; it had been so long since he had used it, and even then, he must not have used it two or so times before. It was a rare endearment, and it was something that Feliciano appreciated more than he could express with words. He held out his arms and grabbed onto the leader, burying his face into his shoulder. Ludwig didn't make any move to return the embrace, but he didn't shove him away either.

"I know. There's no reason for you to ever lie to me, Ludwig." Before the taller man could respond, Feliciano pulled away and grinned again, his eyes shining like pieces of amber in the moonlight. "Let's go, then!"


	26. Chapter 24

Only about five minutes had passed before Feliciano was struggling to keep up with Ludwig's steady and consistent pace. Before too long, he was already out of breath and was practically jogging beside the leader. The young man was built for short bursts of speed, not for endurance, and he was beginning to lag behind the other significantly.

"Are you okay?" Ludwig slowed his pace for the Italian to catch up with him.

"I'm f-fine," he wheezed, huffing and puffing. "Could...could we...slow down a little bit?"

Ludwig glared at him, disbelief under all of that irritation. "You're already tired, aren't you? We've only been walking for five minutes!"

"But you've been...walking very fast...and I can't...keep up with you." The poor thing looked as if he were moments away from passing out cold. The leader released a heavy sigh and began walking again.

"Come on," he uttered. "I'll walk more slowly."

Even as the two of them passed familiar landmarks, such as a small bookstore, some monument in remembrance of a former mayor, and a couple of fountains, Feliciano couldn't shake the feeling of dread that was pooling in his stomach. It was as if his surroundings weren't really the town he grew up in, but rather some kind of battlefield wracked with all sorts of dangers lurking in the shadows. It was unsettling, yes, but more than that, it was depressing. Would he ever see his city in the same innocent light as before he had met Ludwig? Would he view this place as his home once more, or would he be tainted into believing that it was nothing but a savage urban jungle? As he gazed around at the city lights, glowing harshly against the midnight sky, he decided that only time would tell, and that he would try as best he could to keep the familiarity of his home close to him.

Feliciano was shaken out of his deep thoughts as he bumped his head into Ludwig's shoulder. He rubbed his nose in slight pain, but that was quickly overshadowed when he realized that the leader had stopped walking.

"What are you doing, Lud—"

 _"Shh!"_

Feliciano did as he was told, falling as silent as he could and shrinking behind Ludwig, pressing as close to him as he could without making the other uncomfortable. He could tell that Ludwig was listening intently for something, and he was staring off into the distance. His gaze seemed to be fixed on the corner of a building that was still a ways ahead of them. Feliciano glanced around, looking for something that could hint as to what the leader was staring at. After a few moments, the Italian felt his shoulders relax and him release a deep breath.

"I guess it's nothing," Ludwig muttered. "I thought I saw someone run behind that building."

Feliciano stared up at the other man with wide eyes. "Do you think it could be a Hawk?"

"Probably not." His voice was devoid of all worry or doubt. "If it's anyone, it's _Vargar av Is._ They rarely attack, though, so I wouldn't be afraid. Anyways, we're pretty much at their border with us; it's this street, right here. We're going to walk along it and make our way up to our northern border. _That's_ shared with the Hawks, but I still wouldn't worry." He motioned to his pistol.

"So...what exactly _are_ we doing?"

Ludwig shot him a gentle smile, one that was charmed by the other's inexperience. "We're patrolling," he explained. "There's no other purpose than to make sure everything is going okay and the other two gangs aren't trying to aggravate us."

"Oh."

"I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary so far, but there are a few warning signs to look out for. Someone might spray paint their symbol or some message on a building that lies in our territory. That usually means aggression. Sometimes they leave little objects as a means of communication, and sometimes members themselves just wait along the border if they want to discuss something with one of us. They also might—"

"Greetings, Ludwig."

Feliciano had never spun around so quickly. He gasped as he lost his balance, but Ludwig lunged forward and snatched his arm before he could plummet to the ground. He heard the newcomer laugh, a friendly and deep rumble. The Italian twisted his head as fast as he could only to come face-to-face with a tall man with fair skin. His blond hair fell in front of his eyes, which were shielded by thin-rimmed glasses. Upon closer inspection, Feliciano saw that his eyes were blue, like Ludwig's, but deeper. While the German's resembled chips of ice, this man's reminded Feliciano of the depths of an ocean. He was wearing a navy blue jacket, and on the fabric over his heart, there was a symbol of a wolf on a mountain. The man wore a red stripe on his arm, signaling that he was a leader.

"Hello, Berwald," Ludwig responded, his voice free of any hostility. Rather, his tone was of someone greeting their friend. "It has been a while since I've seen you."

"Yes, I suppose it has." Berwald turned to Feliciano, eyeing him with curiosity. "Who is this? I don't think I've seen you before."

"N-no, I'm new," the Italian stuttered, his amber eyes wide with uncertainty. Ludwig's friendliness towards this man had decreased some of Feliciano's fear, but he still was not entirely convinced. "My name is Feliciano."

"He's my trainee," Ludwig put in. "This is his first time out on patrol."

"Ah." Berwald turned to Ludwig, and it was in that moment that Feliciano realized that he was at least two inches taller than the German. "Have you found anything of interest yet?"

"No," Ludwig muttered, sounding somewhat disappointed. "Nothing. I came out hoping to find something from the Hawks. We haven't reached their border yet, but there are always possibilities."

As soon as Ludwig mentioned the Hawks, Berwald's eyes glinted with interest. "If you would like to know, my friend," he began, "I have a piece of information regarding the Hawks that you may not like."

"Go on, then."

The Swede shifted uncomfortably, his eyebrows knitting together. "Well, this happened about a month or so ago. It was a normal night, and Tino and I were discussing separate matters in our headquarters when Vash, Emil, and little Erika walked through the doors with five Hawks, Alfred among them. He said that _Soldaten_ was becoming more and more violent as time went on. They said that they needed someone to help them defend themselves against your attacks, so they proposed an alliance."

 _"What?"_ spat Ludwig, and Feliciano cringed at the intensity of the boiling rage in his voice. "We _never_ initiated _any_ attacks against them! The only time we trespassed on their territory was when we were trying to get one of our _abducted_ members back!"

Berwald's eyes widened even further. "They _kidnapped_ one of your members?"

"Yes! Abel Morgens, one of my most talented strategists." He released a deep sound of frustration that sounded more like a growl than anything. "It was a decoy. A decoy for them to get to my house, _wo er verbrannte es auf den verdammten Boden!"_ Ludwig looked just about ready to explode as his fury caused him to slip into his native language. After a few seconds, he realized that both Berwald and Feliciano were staring at him in confusion.

"He burned it," Ludwig translated. "He burned it to the fucking ground."

"And that's exactly what he told me," Berwald confirmed. "I was put off by it, but Tino was horrified. There was no way in hell that we were going to accept an alliance."

"And rightfully so," growled the other leader. "Who knows what they would have bribed you into?" He sighed heavily. "Have you come looking for me, then?"

"Not necessarily. I was just out, and when I saw you two I decided to say hello." He stopped and looked to the side awkwardly. Berwald was never one for social contact. "But now that you're here, and it's something that I've been thinking of lately...Would _you_ like to form an alliance with _Vargar av Is?"_

Ludwig looked at Berwald as if he thought he was joking, but it was only a second before he realized that he was completely and utterly serious. "What?" he choked. "Why?"

"Because," mumbled Berwald, his eyes as cold as stones, "the Hawks have done some terrible things lately. They've seemed very suspicious as well. When is the last time you've seen any one of them out at night?"

"It _has_ been a while."

"Then as your friend, I am offering you a chance for both of us, and our comrades, the utmost safety. We're going to need it if we're to defend ourselves against Alfred and his followers." The Swede stuck out his hand, waiting for Ludwig to shake it in an agreement. In a moment of slight panic, Ludwig turned to Feliciano, watching him with wide eyes as if he was asking him for help. The Italian released a laugh.

"It's your decision!" he chided. "I'm just your apprentice."

After a moment or so, Ludwig reached forward and shook Berwald's hand. "I'll have to talk to Kiku about it, but I think this is a good idea. Considering the numbers of the Hawks, a larger fighting force will be lucky to have for both of us."

"I agree," Berwald said, confidence in his voice for the first time in the conversation. "You may talk to your second-in-command about it, and then you can pay a visit to my headquarters whenever you like. I will order my gang to not attack you and to allow you free range on our territory." The leader turned around, strolling back down the street. _"Adjö,_ Ludwig! I look forward to fighting alongside you, my friend."

"As do I."

Once Berwald had disappeared, Ludwig faced the direction that he had been walking before they had been interrupted. "Come on, Feliciano, let's keep going."

It took a little over five minutes for them to arrive at the northern border, which was where their border with the Hawks started. They only needed to stroll two blocks before a spray-painted pair of wings marked their territory, and in that moment the whole situation became _real._ These people, this evil group that had maimed Lovino and murdered Gilbert was _real,_ and Feliciano was standing right beside their land. The Italian had never tensed so much before, and he was shaking again. If they didn't leave soon, both he and Ludwig would be nothing but another kill for Alfred to boast about.

"Ludwig," he whispered, his throat tightening, "how long does this border go for?"

The leader looked him in the face, his eyes full of sympathy. "Not for much longer, Feliciano. The northern border is the shortest border we have, and it only goes for six or so more blocks. Are you all right?"

"You know I'm not all right," Feliciano choked out. "I'm afraid."

"I know you are." Ludwig's voice was as soft and gentle as Feliciano had ever heard. "Would it make you feel better if you held onto my hand? I can walk faster and you can just...hold onto me, I guess." Feliciano nodded frantically, lunging forward to grasp onto his hand with all his might.

Ludwig strode along the border as quickly as he could, trying not to exert the other man like he had before. As they made their way to the end of the border, he could feel Feliciano tremble as if he were cold. The leader could only imagine the kind of terror the young man was feeling when he was exposed to the possibility of being seen by the people who put his brother in a coma.

"Look, Feliciano," he mumbled when they reached the end of the border, "it's over. We're back at the west border. It's nearly two in the morning, so I say we go back to your house and finish the patrol another time."

Ludwig had never seen so much relief in his trainee's eyes. When they stepped back into the apartment, Feliciano compared the warmth of the house to kisses from heaven. Antonio had left at around eleven, and Lovino was fast asleep in his bed.

"I need some time to sit down and think before I try to go to sleep," Feliciano said quietly, trying not to raise his voice. "Ludwig, will you join me for some tea before you go to bed?"

"I wouldn't mind."

The Italian bounced over to the kitchen, his previous fear from being outside completely gone. "Come and sit down on the sofa, then!" The leader did as he was told and settled himself down on the couch as Feliciano scurried off to make the tea. Being the owner of a café, Feliciano had an array of kettles that were at his disposal, and he was able to boil some water in five minutes. He poured the steaming water into two cups, dropped in the teabags, and added the tiniest bit of honey to each mug.

Ludwig smilied slightly at Feliciano when he placed the warm mug into his hands and then sat himself beside him on the sofa. The Italian pulled a large blanket over the two of them and leaned gently against the other's side, desperate for some kind of warmth. Ludwig flushed heavily at the contact, but he didn't have the heart to shove him away, so he remained still.

"You're really going to form an alliance with Berwald?" asked Feliciano, bringing the cup to his lips.

Ludwig couldn't meet his gaze. "I don't know. Probably. It certainly _seems_ like a good idea. Why shouldn't we?"

The Italian shrugged. "There's no reason. No reason at all. If anything, it sounds like the best thing to happen to _Soldaten_ in a while."

"Other than you joining it," slipped out of Ludwig's mouth before he could stifle it. The statement only made the leader blush redder, and he slapped a hand in front of his mouth before he said something else that was more embarrassing than that. Feliciano laughed heartily, pressing closer to him.

"You're so silly, Ludwig," the brunet whispered. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

"Like you're one to talk!" he retorted, but he couldn't bring himself to come up with any examples that might hurt his feelings. "And besides, once you've gained experience, I feel like you'll be just as amazing as all of us, perhaps even better."

"I doubt that," Feliciano breathed, but his eyes were shining with affection. He placed his mug down on the coffee table beside the couch and grasped Ludwig's arm, yawning and cuddling into it. "You'll always be the best fighter. You're the leader, so you have to be."

"I don't know; have you ever seen Elizabeta fight?"

This coaxed yet another giggle from Feliciano. "She's a warrior, of course, but she can get really brutal about it. _You,_ on the other hand, fight with honor." In an attempt to get both closer and warmer, Feliciano intertwined their legs, shutting his eyes. He didn't say anything else after that, and after a few minutes had passed, Ludwig realized that he had fallen asleep.

For the first time, he accepted the contact from the other man and returned the endearment.

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Wo er verbrannte es auf den verdammten Boden**_ **(German): According to Google Translate, it's "where he burned it to the fucking ground." Now, I'm learning German, so I wrote what I thought was right and then went to GT for confirmation. This** _ **looks**_ **okay to me, but then again, I'm in my very early stages of learning. Apparently "verdammten" can mean both damn and fucking, which I didn't know. If there are any fluent German speakers who can clarify this for me, I would very much appreciate it.**

 _ **Adjö**_ **(Swedish): Goodbye**

 **As an addition, I would like to apologize for my short chapters. I know that you guys would love longer ones, and I would love to give them to you, but here's the thing: I only have so much time to write, and it's usually at night. I would like to update quickly rather than have you guys wait three weeks for a longer chapter. I am sorry if you don't like my relatively short chapters, but know that I'm doing it just to let you have more frequent updates.**


	27. Chapter 25

**A/N: Lietpol is my weakness. Just a fair warning for today's chapter. Also, Poland and Lithuania should be the last supporting characters to be** _ **really**_ **introduced. Wouldn't be a good story without a forbidden romance, now would it? ;)**

"Hey, you! Potato-loving freak, what in the _hell_ do you think you're doing with my brother?"

Ludwig forced open his eyelids, which screamed in protest given the fact that he had been so suddenly wrenched out of the grip of sleep. It took a few moments for his vision to focus, but when it did, his face was alarmingly close to flaming hazel eyes.

"Gah!" The shock caused Ludwig to jump harshly, eliciting a low groan from beside him.

"Ehh...Ludwig, stop making noise..." The warmth that had been next to the leader all night suddenly increased as a sleep-deprived Feliciano snuggled deeper into his side, sighing contentedly. That was when Ludwig realized that he and Feliciano had never retreated back to their respective bedrooms before they fell asleep. They were still wearing their outdoor clothes, concealed by only a blanket, and their tea was long forgotten as the mugs sat on the coffee table.

"Feliciano, wake up!" Ludwig hissed, shaking his shoulder.

"I cannot _believe_ this!" Lovino rambled, his face red with rage. "For the slightest moment, I trusted you. I thought, 'hey, maybe this German isn't _such_ a bad guy,' but clearly I was wrong! You two go out for _one night_ on the town or whatever the hell it was you two were doing and then you come back and take advantage of my little brother? You think you're going to get away with it too, huh? Well, that's not the case! You're going to get the ass-whooping of your life, I can assure you!"

" _Fratello,_ do you mind stopping that racket? Ludwig and I didn't get home until _late,_ and I would like to sleep in a little bit." His voice was muffled by the blanket that was covering his head.

"And I can't believe that you would _let him!"_ spat the older brother. "Now get up!" In a single, swift movement, Lovino snatched the fabric away from them. His expression turned immediately from hostility to confusion as he saw the kind of clothes they were wearing and the way his twin was cuddled into Ludwig's chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about, brother," slurred Feliciano. "We were both cold and tired, so we fell asleep together. He's my friend and I trust him, so I don't see the big deal."

"And I didn't take advantage of him, either!" Ludwig defended. "We were only sleeping! If anything, _he_ was the one who wouldn't let me leave!"

"You didn't try to."

"I didn't have much of a choice!"

"I would have moved if you said you wanted me to!"

"Shut up, both of you!" Lovino shouted, clenching his hands into lethal fists. "I don't want to hear your excuses! Feliciano! If I _ever_ see you as close to this German as you are right now again, I'll beat you all the way to Jupiter! And you, _Ludwig_ ," —he spat his name with scorn— "I hope you aren't allergic to nuts, because if you touch my _fratellino_ in a way that I don't think is appropriate, I'll kick yours up into your throat!"

"How does that even make sense?" Feliciano muttered, resting his face on Ludwig's shoulder.

"It doesn't matter! Get away from him now!"

Feliciano automatically sensed Ludwig's mood shift and his muscles tense in preparation for a fight. The intensity in his icy eyes unnerved Feliciano, even if he knew the harsh glare wasn't directed towards him. Lovino didn't seem to realize, or rather he didn't _remember,_ that Ludwig was a leader. And to be one, he had to be a warrior.

"I don't appreciate your attitude towards your little brother," he said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "It's not very fair to him or to me."

"Excuse me?" Lovino seemed more shocked and confused at Ludwig's backtalk than angered.

Ludwig released a snort. "You heard me. What have either of us done that you don't like? I've been nothing but tolerant of you, and Feliciano has given both of us a home! So what do you do? You turn around and spit on him because I'm closer to him than you would prefer?"

In a move that the leader certainly didn't expect, Lovino lunged forwards and tried to grab Ludwig, but he blocked his strike in a way that only he would be experienced enough to perform. He stood, still with Lovino's wrist in his grasp, and towered over him, eyes shining with blue fire. A brief expression of fear flickered across the Italian's features for a moment, but it was almost instantly replaced with hatred. Ludwig leaned in close and stared into Lovino's eyes.

"Someone had ought to tell you that the world doesn't revolve around you," Ludwig continued. "I can't believe that you would be this ungrateful, this disrespectful to your little brother. From what I've seen, Feliciano deserves more respect than you any day. He could have turned you away once you were discharged from the hospital, but he didn't. He loves you more than he loves anyone else in the world, and you treat him like shit. In addition to _that,_ I'm your brother's friend. I'm in his life now, and since you're living with him, I suppose I'm in yours as well. You can't choose your brother's friends for him. That's not how the world works. And if you don't like me, I guess you're just going to have to deal with it."

"Listen to him, Lovino," Feliciano pleaded. "I beg of you, listen to what he is saying. I trust him, and I can make my own decisions. I'm not a _bambino_ anymore, Lovino. You can't order me around. I know I'm the only one that you remember, but...it hurts me when you think I can't make my own friends." There was a hint of sadness that shone through the disappointment and anger of his words.

It was Feliciano's voice that seemed to get to Lovino more than Ludwig's did. With a deep sigh, he declared, "All right, fine. I understand. I'll leave you alone, German. But if you ever make advancements on my brother that he doesn't want, the deal's off. Understood?"

Ludwig released Lovino's wrist. "Understood."

In a desperate attempt to shift the mood to something more upbeat, Feliciano stood up and wriggled his way in between Ludwig and Lovino. "How about I make breakfast, you guys? I have this _awesome_ French toast recipe that I want to try out! Come here, Ludwig, you can help me!" Without another word, he grabbed Ludwig's hand and led him into the kitchen, leaving Lovino to scowl by himself.

xXxXx

The moon shone brightly down on a head of silky blond hair as a young man heaved himself up a ladder and onto the top of an abandoned building. The building was relatively short, and with the help of a ladder that he had found in a local dumpster, he was able to lift himself to the top. With a shiver from the March air, he wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and leaned against the edge of the rooftop.

It wasn't long before another man, one with shining blue eyes and chin-length, dusty brown hair, pulled himself up onto the roof. He locked eyes with the other man, sapphire on bright green, and jogged up to him. He sat down beside him, pulling the blond into his arms and resting his cheek upon his head.

"Hey, Feliks," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the man's light locks. "It's been too long since I last saw you, love." He tilted Feliks' chin up and covered his pale face in more kisses, smiling as the smaller man leaned further into his touch. Feliks shivered once more, and the other man stared down at him with concern apparent in his eyes.

"Do you want my jacket?"

Feliks met his gaze and chuckled. "No, Toris, I'm fine. Besides, it's yours," he refused in a thick Polish accent. Rather than accept the piece of clothing from Toris, he tucked his head beneath the other's chin and wrapped his arms around his waist. Toris, in turn, returned the embrace and ran his fingers through Feliks' hair. They sat like that, together in silence, for several minutes.

"So, what are you thinking about?" Feliks questioned, leaning up to brush his lips against his lover's chin.

"How do you know that I'm thinking of something in the first place?"

"You're quiet," he whispered. "You're usually telling me everything that's happened in your life lately. Not that I don't like it."

Toris sighed heavily. "It's nothing important, _š_ _irdel_ _ė_ _,"_ he breathed. "I'm just...thinking about how much longer we can keep this up for."

"Keep what up?"

"You _know_ what. This! _Us!"_

As soon as those words left his mouth, Feliks held Toris at arm's length and stared at him, obviously hurt. "What do you mean? Do you not love me anymore?"

Toris' blue eyes immediately flashed with regret, and he reached out to hold Feliks against him once more. "No, no! _A_ _š tave labai myliu_ _!"_

Feliks grinned bashfully. " _Te_ _ż cię kocham_ ," he responded in his native tongue, cradling Toris' face in his warm palm.

"It's just...sneaking around like this is dangerous. You are of _Soldaten,_ and I am _Vargar av Is._ You know the rules, Feliks. If a member of one gang is caught meeting with a member of another gang, they could be kicked out...or worse." He shuddered as he thought of what might become of him if his leader found out that he was sneaking around with one of _Soldaten._ Berwald was definitely a reasonable man, but he could be damn scary when he got angry, and he was also a sucker for the rules. "Berwald would be furious."

"I don't think he'd be _that_ mad," Feliks argued. "I mean, you think he would know what it's like to be in love with a gang member. Have you _seen_ him around Tino? _Mój Bo_ _że_ _,_ it's like they couldn't be any less obvious about it!"

"That's not the point. Tino is in the same gang as he is, and it doesn't matter if anyone thinks it's wrong. He's the leader. He can do as he pleases. He is kind, but...this is something he would not allow. I've heard that Ludwig gets pretty damn terrifying when someone does something he's not a fan of. He'd slaughter you."

Feliks snorted. "Are you kidding me? First off, sure, he can be a bit scary when times are rough for him, but no one listens to him anyways! Like, have you heard about what Elizabeta has been saying? She's pissed. Secondly, he's gay as hell too. I can tell. And _third,_ that man has worse things to worry about than me being in love. The Hawks burned his house down last month. Have you heard about that?"

"I think so."

Feliks made another little frustrated noise. "Well, I guess you can't blame him for that very much, but still. You'd think he'd want to go fight Alfred more than ever now!"

"I don't know, Feliks. He's probably afraid of Alfred now. I know I would be."

"Are you _joking?_ Ludwig's just as tall and strong as Alfred, if not more!"

"They have _many_ members, darling. Even more than our gangs combined." Toris shut his sapphire eyes for a second, and then snapped them back open as he gasped. "That's what I forgot to tell you! I can't believe I forgot!" He grabbed Feliks' shoulders in a tight grasp and stared deeply into his eyes. "There's this rumor going around that our gangs are going to form an alliance!"

What could only be described as pure hope flooded through Feliks' heart, but he still was skeptical at his boyfriend's words. "Who told you that?"

"Matthias said that Tino told him that Berwald was telling Vash about the proposition! Berwald supposedly gave _Soldaten_ permission to wander on our territory until their problems with the Hawks are dealt with!"

"Oh, yeah, you've told me how reliable _Matthias_ is!" Despite his sarcastic words, the Pole's face was bright with joy. He grabbed Toris' face and brought him in for a desperate, passionate kiss, one that held all of the love and affection that they were forced to keep out of the others' sight.

Once they pulled apart, Toris chuckled softly as he touched their foreheads together. "This is just a rumor, remember that. Even if it's not, and we _do_ form an alliance...that doesn't necessarily mean our relationship will be smiled upon. It might still be the same."

"I know that. And...I've been thinking about that. I'm tired of sneaking around. I want to be out with you during the day. I want to take you places, I want to sleep next to you, I want to _live with you._ For as long as is humanely possible." He pressed his lips to the other man's quickly. "I've made my decision. My gang isn't as noble as it once was, and...it seems that we've forgotten how to fight, let alone what we're fighting _for._ " Feliks fell silent for a few seconds and then released a heavy sigh. "If this alliance isn't actually happening, or if it does and they deny our relationship, I'll leave _Soldaten_ to come with you. No hesitation."

Toris' eyes widened and his jaw dropped just the tiniest bit. "Feliks...you don't have to."

"Yes, I do. I'm not going to risk my life for something that I don't have the heart to do. I won't die for something that doesn't even have a purpose anymore." He shook his head sadly. "This is a decision I was eventually going to have to make if we were going to be together. And if I had to choose between being apart of a gang that I don't even care about and being with you..." Feliks leaned in close again, hinting that he wanted another kiss. "I'd choose you."

Their lips met once more, but this kiss was gentle and chaste, reassurance that they would be fine, no matter what gangs were allied with which.

"Regardless of your choice," Toris breathed, nuzzling his face into Feliks' pale blond hair, "I'll support it. You should be able to make your own decisions, and I wouldn't try to stop you for a second."

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _ **Bambino**_ **(Italian): Baby/Child**

 _ **Š**_ _ **irdel**_ _ **ė**_ __ **(Lithuanian): Sweetheart**

 _ **A**_ _ **š tave labai myliu**_ __ **(Lithuanian): I love you very much**

 _ **Te**_ _ **ż cię kocham**_ __ **(Polish): I love you too**

 _ **Mój Bo**_ _ **że**_ __ **(Polish): My God**

 **(Sorry for all the phrases. I know it's overdone, but I genuinely LOVE foreign language!)**


	28. Chapter 26

**A/N: Guys. Holy fucking shit, I am so so so sorry for not updating for almost two months. My computer caught a really bad virus and I still don't have it back. I'm typing out chapters on my phone. I had a lot of chapter 26 on my computer, and I didn't want to bother writing it on my phone when it was on my computer, so I started on 27 and 28. Not three weeks later, my phone breaks and I lose all of chapter 27, so that's gone. So then I had half of chapter 28 done, but no 27 and only the second half of 26. I thought I was going to be able to return with three or four chapters, but that's not going to happen. I'm honestly working so hard to rewrite them, but I still have summer work to do for school and once school starts on the 30** **th** **, updates will not be faster. I'm at the point in my fanfiction where it starts to get more serious, and I get really pissed whenever I have to rewrite entire chapters. I sincerely apologize to all of you readers who have been patiently waiting for an update. I can't upload using the Fanfiction app, so I have to resort to typing it on my phone and uploading it at the library near where I live. It sucks, but since school starts next week, I'll have more computer access and the next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long. Now you know where I am if I'm vacant for a long period of time. Enjoy chapter 26 and I'll see you sometime in the next week or so!**

xXxXx

It was three more days before Ludwig decided that it was time to bring Feliciano back out to finish the remainder of the patrol. He still hadn't seen the entirety of the territory, and in order to be an intelligent member of his gang, knowledge of their borders was imperative.

"Tonight," he told Feliciano once Lovino had left the dinner table, "we'll go do the rest of the patrol. I've gotten Sadik and Heracles to go out later and check up on the areas that we've been through. Kiku is coming with us as well. I…I have to tell him about the deal I made with Berwald. We're leaving around nine o'clock."

"Sounds good! I'm glad we're done with the border we share with the Hawks!" His eyes shone with laughter, but then he looked warily to the side. "We'll have to go when Lovino's asleep. Otherwise, he won't let me out of his sight."

When nine o'clock rolled around, Feliciano crept back to Lovino's room to make sure he was asleep. He winced when the door creaked open, but he heard no movement in the room. As he peered in, he saw an unmoving lump under the covers and came to the conclusion that Lovino was unconscious. He swiftly pulled his head out of the doorway and tiptoed back down the hall.

"Is he asleep?" Ludwig whispered.

Feliciano nodded. "Out cold."

"That's good. Kiku just texted me and said he's waiting down the street. In that case, are you ready to leave? "

"Of course! Let me grab my jacket and then we can go."

As the two of them stepped out into the chilly night air, Feliciano kept close to the leader in an attempt to keep himself warm. It was a little pathetic, sure, but like usual, Feliciano despised the cold, and Ludwig was almost always warmer than anyone he knew. Kiku, true to his word, was beneath a streetlight at the end of the road. His small, unmoving frame was standing rigidly under the yellow rays of light. When he saw Feliciano and Ludwig approaching him, he dipped his head in greeting and walked up to them.

"Good evening," he muttered. "It is nice to see you again, Feliciano."

Feliciano grinned and saluted. "Right back at you!"

"So, we'll just go to the end of this road and then down Opal Street. Since that's our eastern border, we'll travel south to the southern border and see what's going on there. We don't share these borders with anyone, so it should be pretty uneventful."

"Got it!" Feliciano chirped. Kiku only nodded.

"You've been training hard, haven't you?" Kiku asked as they began their trek down the street, a warm glow in his eyes. The Italian nodded vigorously.

"Oh, yes, of course! Ludwig told me a few days ago that I'll be a _full_ member soon, not just his trainee."

"Oh?" Kiku's face contorted into a mixed expression of confusion and amusement. "Is that so?"

Ludwig sighed. "No, it's not. He still has a long way to go." The German ran a hand through his hair and picked up his pace. "Half of the gang hasn't even had the _pleasure_ of meeting him yet. His fighting skills need some more work as well."

Feliciano released a dramatic groan and slumped against Ludwig's shoulder, his hair crumpling against his jacket. "Ugh, _still?_ I've been hitting that same punching bag that you have for _ages!"_

"You've touched it twice."

"No! It's been more than that!"

"No, it hasn't."

"Yes, it has!"

"You two bicker like children," Kiku observed. "Let's keep going. You two are slow!"

Feliciano snorted. "Besides, meeting the other members shouldn't be too difficult. It's not like they'll kick me out! You're their leader, so they have to accept who you let into the gang. Although, there are a lot!" Ludwig tensed in response to his last words. "There's you two and I. Then there's Elizabeta and Roderich. That Bella girl and her brother who was captured. Antonio hasn't officially left. Those other two who are on patrol, Sadik and Heracles. Who else?"

"Feliks," put in Kiku. "He doesn't show up much lately."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he left soon," Ludwig muttered.

"Bella has another brother besides Abel. His name is Luca. That's everyone."

The leader released what sounded like a mix between a choked sob and a laugh. "When a trainee can list all but two of our members, you can tell we have some issues."

"What do you mean?" Feliciano asked, tilting his head to one side. "That's still so many!"

Upon hearing those words, something inside of Ludwig seemed to snap. He spun around and nearly knocked Feliciano over with the force of his movement. "How _dare_ you underestimate our problems like that? How many is _eleven_ against Alfred's…what, thirty? Thirty-five? We'll be slaughtered!" Oddly, Feliciano didn't feel threatened by Ludwig's shouts. This man was his friend. His harsh words were empty; he meant virtually nothing by saying them.

Even so, the Italian knew his place and cast his gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry, Ludwig."

"Hmph." Ludwig turned and continued down the street, walking so quickly Feliciano and Kiku feared they would be left behind.

"Don't worry about it," Kiku reassured the Italian. "He doesn't mean what he says. He's touchy about the subject of how many members we have."

"I guess so." Kiku firmly patted his shoulder, then turned to catch up to the leader.

"Anyways, Kiku, I have to talk to you about something," Ludwig called, his voice still rough from anger.

"What is it?"

Ludwig didn't look at either of the two men; rather, he kept his gaze locked on what was in front of him. "The other night, when Feliciano and I were patrolling the northern and western borders, we ran into Berwald." Kiku eyed him suspiciously. "It turns out that the Hawks had enough gall to _tell_ them that they were the ones to burn down my house. Then they asked to form an alliance with Berwald and his gang."

" _What?"_ The second-in-command's expression was utterly shocked. "Why? They already have so many members! Why would they need more?"

Ludwig shrugged. "My guess is they wanted to keep us from forming an alliance with Berwald. Nonetheless, he refused."

"Oh, thank goodness."

"Then he asked me if _I_ wanted to form an alliance with him. Well, he _said_ alliance, but he made it sound like we would become some sort of joint gang. We wouldn't be morphing _Soldaten_ and _Vargar av Is_ together, but we would have permission to walk on each other's territory. We would formulate plans together and the like."

"And of course you said no."

Ludwig fell silent, glancing anxiously at Feliciano. "Kiku…I said I would think about it."

The second-in-command automatically gaped, his eyes shining with surprise. The surprise grew into something between anger and hurt. "You made a decision this big without consulting me first? That's what I'm here for! That's the reason second-in-commands exist in the first place!"

Ludwig raised a hand to silence him. "I know you're upset about this," he began, "but use your head. What harm could come from Berwald? He knows that the Hawks are dangerous. After their meeting, he knows that Alfred will do drastic things to get his way. An alliance is exactly what _he_ needs to keep _his_ subjects safe as well."

Kiku stared down at the ground for a few moments, then looked directly into Ludwig's eyes. "No, Ludwig," he hissed. " _You_ use _your_ head. They call themselves the gang that keeps the peace. What if Berwald was lying? If he's so peaceful, why would he put himself in danger by refusing to join with Alfred? Wouldn't it be easier to ally with him and do what he wants? They've stayed out of conflict thus far, so why would Berwald decide to side with you _now_ , when we're weak and outnumbered?"

"We're not weak," spat Ludwig, "and we're not outnumbered. Together, we have almost as many members as the Hawks."

"That doesn't answer my doubts about him joining _you_ for no reason."

"I like to think of Berwald as my friend. I've known him longer than I've known you, before we even started all of this. He would _never_ betray me." Kiku huffed in disbelief. "You know what? I'd go as far as to say I trust him more than I trust some of my own comrades sometimes."

Instantly, Feliciano and Kiku gasped. Neither of them spoke, until Kiku clutched his fists and walked in the direction that they came from. "Fine, then. If I'm so unimportant to you, you and Feliciano can finish the patrol by yourselves." Then he was gone, striding down the sidewalk.

Ludwig and Feliciano watched him go until he was out of sight. "Come," Ludwig muttered, and they walked down the road in silence for a minute or so. With a glance at Feliciano, Ludwig observed that he was oddly silent, and he refused to make eye contact or even look at his leader.

"Look, Feliciano…I didn't mean what I said earlier about you not working hard enough." He stopped walking and placed a firm hand on the Italian's shoulder. "You're doing wonderfully, it's just…I have other things to worry about right now."

"That's not what I was thinking about." Feliciano looked up at him with large, sad eyes. "Do you really not trust us as much as Berwald and his gang?"

Ludwig was so shocked by his words that he was unable to speak for a few moments. He opened his mouth to respond, closed it, and then opened it again. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and caught his friend in a tight embrace.

"I…no. No, Feliciano. I trust you with my life. Kiku as well."

Feliciano felt a knot tightening in his throat, but he buried his face in Ludwig's shoulder and prayed that it would go away. He was shivering, and he felt the leader run a hand down his back.

"Are you cold?" asked Ludwig.

"Not really. I'm getting used to it!" Ludwig stared down at him with a gentle, teasing smile. Grinning, Feliciano craned his neck to nuzzle the leader's nose with his own, until—

A sharp, echoing clap shattered the peaceful night air, causing the two men to force themselves away from each other on instinct. Feliciano's eyes, which were soft and affectionate not five seconds ago, were now wide and frightened.

"A gunshot," Feliciano whispered.

"Yes. A pistol, it sounded like. I don't know what type."

"You can tell what kind of firearm it was so just by the gunshot? You must have been around guns for a long time!"

"I've been around them long enough to know that they're no joke," muttered Ludwig, a slight hint of panic in the tone of his voice. "I have to go see what it was. What if it's Kiku? He just left. It could be Sadik or Heracles. It-oh, for fuck's sake, why am I still standing here? I have to make sure that gunshot doesn't concern us!"

As Ludwig turned to run, Feliciano trailed closely behind him, but the leader clearly had a different idea.

"No!" he spat harshly, shoving Feliciano away. "Turn around. Go home. This is not your fight."

"It's not yours either!" Feliciano objected indignantly, grabbing Ludwig's sleeve.

"It very well could be!"

"Didn't you tell me that keeping myself sheltered from violence is a bad idea? I need _experience!"_

"You don't need to die tonight! Don't argue! Run away, Feliciano! _Now!"_ With that, Ludwig took off down the street, sprinting faster than Feliciano had ever seen.

The Italian decided that there was no use in following him. He was too fast. However, there was surely no harm in finding a place to hide and wait for something to happen. Feliciano glanced around wildly before settling his gaze on a spot between a bench and a trashcan that would hide him from anyone's sight. It was about his size, as well. Quickly, Feliciano jogged over to the hiding spot and slipped into it. When he shimmied behind the garbage can, there was little chance any passersby would spot him unless they were deliberately searching for someone. A cold draft of air blew in Feliciano's direction, and he tightened his jacket around himself. It was uncomfortable and he wanted to go home, but he had made a commitment. If Ludwig needed his help, then Feliciano would find him and be right at his side. As more wind blew into his face, Feliciano shut his eyes and leaned his head back onto the wall behind him.

They snapped back open when another gunshot rang through the air. Feliciano jolted with terror, but the sound seemed like it was the same distance away as the first.

The Italian sprung to his feet. That had done it. No matter what Ludwig had told him to do, his friend, along with Kiku, could be in grave danger. With all of his strength, Feliciano launched himself out of his hiding spot and flew down the street in the direction Ludwig had gone.

xXxXx

Ludwig drew in a shuddering breath of agony as he gripped his shoulder. His hand did little use, judging by the excess amount of blood that continued to pour from the wound. With vision that was steadily becoming more and more blurry, he stared at Kiku's unmoving body, trying to determine if he was still alive. The bullet had pierced right through his middle, beneath his ribs. He was completely still, splayed out on the ground in a pool of his own blood that had stained his clothes crimson.

The scene was like something out of Ludwig's worst nightmare. When he came across Kiku, he was already on the cold ground, and there was a girl with short, platinum blonde hair leaning over him. As expected, she had been clutching a pistol in her hands.

"He attacked me! I didn't mean-" was the only thing the girl had been able to do to explain herself before Ludwig launched himself at her.

It was as if it had happened in slow motion. The leader came closer until the girl had realized that she had to do something or else she would not see the light of dawn. She raised her arm, aimed for Ludwig's shoulder, and pulled the trigger. He had plummeted to the ground like a rock, gasping at the sudden fire that had erupted in his shoulder.

She must have hit an artery or a vein or _something,_ because now, Ludwig was hunched over on the ground, trying his best not to bleed out. Deep inside, the leader knew that his second-in-command, one of the best advisors he had ever known, was not breathing. _And the last thing I ever did was disrespect him._

The girl, who had the dreaded bird of prey symbol sewn onto her jacket, looked caught as she momentarily pondered over what to do.

"You piece of shit Hawk!" choked Ludwig, coughing up a few drops of blood. "I'll _kill_ you!"

The girl's deep blue eyes widened with terror as Ludwig attempted to stumble to his feet. He tried to reach for his own weapon, but when he moved his injured right arm in order to draw the pistol, the pain intensified, and he cried out. Ludwig, only twenty years old, had never been shot before. Cut open, yes. Beaten, yes. Burned, yes. Stabbed, yes, once. But shot? Never. Before he could recover from the excruciating pain, the girl had fled.

" _God damn it all!"_

Ludwig collapsed on the ground once more, his teeth gritted together. He removed his gloved hand from his wound only to see that it was soaked through with blood. He wouldn't be conscious for much longer, and if he didn't staunch the flow of blood soon, he would surely bleed to death.

A horrified gasp came from the sidewalk. Groggily, Ludwig turned his head to see a wide pair of amber eyes. _"Feliciano,"_ he croaked. "Help me…"

For a few moments, the Italian didn't look as if he had heard him. Feliciano looked at Ludwig's face, then at his wound, then at Kiku, and then at Ludwig's face again. Finally he returned to his senses and rushed to Ludwig's side. He dropped to the ground, grasping the leader's face in his hands and staring into his eyes. Feliciano's own expression was wracked with confusion and terror.

"What happened?" he demanded, tears pouring down his cheeks. Ludwig opened his mouth to respond, but the moment that he did, the world faded to black around him. Feliciano gasped as Ludwig fell still, his head dropping against the Italian's shoulder.

"L- _Ludwig?"_ he cried. "Oh, no, oh, _God!_ Ludwig, wake up!" The German's blood continued to flow out of the wound, dirtying Feliciano's hands. As soon as Feliciano realized how much of it there actually was, he ripped off his jacket and wrapped it firmly around Ludwig's wound, then called the police. Keeping Ludwig close to him, Feliciano rested his head on his chest and listened for a heartbeat. It was there; weak, but there. He could feel shaky breaths coming from his nose as well.

Feliciano looked over at Kiku. He didn't need to observe him for long to determine his fate. The second-in-command's eyes were glazed over, and there was no rise and fall of his chest like there was with Ludwig's. With a touch to his stomach, Feliciano felt the coldness of his flesh and knew that he was dead.

As he waited for the police to arrive, Feliciano cradled Ludwig's head in his arms, whispering condolences and keeping sure that there was still pressure over the wound. He pondered over whether or not to call Lovino, but then decided that something like this would be better kept quiet until it was dealt with.

He sighed with relief when the familiar flashing of red and blue lights graced the streets. A trio of police officers hopped out of a cruiser, two men and a woman. As they approached Feliciano, he looked up at them gratefully, still holding Ludwig against him.

"What happened here, sir?" the woman asked, kneeling beside Feliciano, while the men went over to inspect Kiku.

"I don't know," lied the Italian. "We…I mean…Ludwig and I were out getting groceries. We don't have enough money to own a car, so we were walking." He motioned to Kiku. "He's a friend of ours. We heard a gunshot, and Ludwig told me to run while he went to see what happened." He made sure to leave out all the details regarding gang violence. "When I heard the next shot, I ran to find them, and…" He broke down sobbing. " _Ludwig,_ oh God…" Unable to go on, Feliciano clutched the man in his arms closer, pressing his cheek against the other's forehead. Thankfully, it was still warm.

"And how's the other one?"

One of the officers raised his head. "Unresponsive. He's…dead. It's too late for him."

Upon hearing this, Feliciano sobbed harder. This was it, a death. The first death due to the Hawks that he had seen with his own eyes. And not just any death, either. Whoever the shooter was, they had knowingly killed a high-ranking member of _Soldaten._

"And how is he?" The woman motioned to Ludwig.

"He's breathing, thank God," the Italian whispered. "But…he was shot here." He lifted his jacket from the wound to show the policewoman. "He passed out as soon as I got here, after I asked him what happened."

The police officer patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sure he'll be fine," she assured Feliciano. "I'm no doctor, but I've seen a lot of injuries, and he most likely just passed out from blood loss. I know that seems bad, but look: he's not bleeding very much now. The ambulance will arrive soon. He'll live." With a heavy sigh, she looked over at Kiku. "You should call his family."

"I don't know if he has one," choked Feliciano, running his fingers through Ludwig's hair. "Ludwig knows, though. I've only known Kiku for a few weeks."

The officer nodded. "We can ask him if he knows once he wakes up. For now, you should get home." She and Feliciano had both noticed that the ambulance had arrived.

"Go home?" asked Feliciano, widening his eyes. "I can't _leave_ him!" He cuddled Ludwig's head against his chest as a pair of paramedics approached. "He lives with me. His house was burned down in an…accident. All of his relatives that I know of are deceased." Feliciano looked down at him with eyes that were filled with pity.

"This guy seems to have the worst luck," the officer muttered. "All right, then. I can't say that you'll be able to ride in the ambulance, but if you hop in my cruiser, I can drop you off at the hospital."

His heart screamed in protest when Feliciano handed Ludwig over to the paramedics. "Okay. Thank you, miss."

"It's no problem," she responded. "It's the least I can do. Come on; the faster we get to the hospital, the faster you can see your friend again."


	29. Chapter 27

**Hey. I'm back. I deeply apologize for being gone for half a year because the guy who was supposed to be fixing my computer sucked. I wouldn't blame any reader for forgetting completely about this fanfic. I still want to finish this story at some point, however, I am not sure when that will be. I've written bits and pieces, but I also have other, more historically relevant fanfictions I would like to write. Plus, the pace of the story has picked up, and it's difficult to keep all the events in the right order when it's been so long. In fact, I would suggest rereading the past few chapters, because without them, this chapter seems a little out of place. Yes, Kiku is dead, and Ludwig was almost straight-up slaughtered. I changed my username, too.**

 **The point of the matter is, I don't know how long updates are going to take. Hopefully they won't be months apart like the last two have been. I hope you guys understand, and don't be sad, because it is going to be finished. It might take a long while, but it will be finished, mark my words. As an apology, this is a good chapter for GerIta shippers, despite the story's recent events. Enjoy today's chapter, and I'm glad to be back.**

xXxXx

"You _what?"_

Katyusha inwardly cringed as Natalya's eyes flooded with blue fire. She spun around, platinum strands of hair flying in all directions, causing her older sister's stomach to lunge. Her gloved hands balled into lethal fists, and her moon white skin was steadily fading into a deep shade of red.

"I p-promise I didn't mean to! He came out of nowhere, and he was moving so fast...I-I didn't have time to do anything else!"

Natalya slammed her hands down on the counter in front of her, making Katyusha jump. "So you _shoot_ him? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Katyusha brought her hands to her cheeks, covering her face in disbelief. "I had no choice…" Her eastern European accent thickened as she grew more upset, and tears pooled in her eyes.

The younger of the two sisters snarled with frustration. "Now we'll have the whole of _Soldaten_ after us! What were you _thinking?_ Shooting their leader and killing their second-in-command! Could you have fucked up worse?"

"I'm going to die," Katyusha whimpered, the tears finally spilling over her cheeks. "I...Ludwig will probably be out of the hospital in no time, and then I'll be in the ground."

"That's not the point that I'm trying to make!" Natalya ran a hand through her hair. "Ludwig and Alfred hate each other with all their hearts. Big brother is Alfred's sweetheart, is he not? We are Ivan's sisters. We are probably targets, yes, but that doesn't matter! The whole of the Hawks is at risk now! Don't you understand?"

Natalya fell silent, breathing heavily. Katyusha looked up and met her sister's eyes, ocean blue locking onto ice. "I...no." She looked to the side as she spoke, not wanting to witness her sister's reaction. "I don't understand."

Rather than launching into an explosion of insults and shouts, Natalya's voice dropped to a dangerous low tone. "Listen to me, Kat. Listen closely." She reached forward and grabbed Katyusha's wrist, feeling her tense up and wince as she clutched her with all the force that she possessed. "So Kiku Honda, second-in-command of _Soldaten_ is dead. Ludwig never _really_ killed anyone, did he? Elizabeta was the cause of Tony's death. I saw it because I was there. Alfred, however, has it engraved in his mind that it was Ludwig's fault. Now that _their_ second-in-command is dead, they're going to pull exactly what Alfred did. Kiku served Ludwig for a long time, longer than Tony served Alfred. He'll be so overcome by anger that he'll harm whoever he comes across."

"So you're saying that you don't approve of what Alfred's been doing? That's kind of hypocritical."

"It doesn't matter! What _does_ matter is how furious Ludwig is going to be towards us. All of us! The whole gang, not just you! We have to...do something. I don't know what, not yet, but I'll come up with something. For now, just...shit, I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." Natalya sighed deeply, suddenly looking very old. The dark circles under her eyes were a frightening contrast to her pale skin, and the black bow she wore in her frazzled hair seemed to wilt. "I'm going to sleep. Please, sister, don't stress over it. He won't come after you alone." Then she vanished into her room, her gait making no noise as she strolled away, and her slim fingers balled into fists.

Her heart in her throat, Katyusha stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed. She could not staunch the flow of tears leaking out of her eyes and was soon continuing her sobbing fest. _We're going to die. He's going to find us, he's going to kill us._

Before she could think any more about it, Katyusha was fast asleep, the exhaustion from her emotional turmoil knocking her unconscious.

xXxXx

"I couldn't thank you more, miss," Feliciano said as he stepped out of the police car.

"It's no problem," the officer responded. "I really hope your friend is well, or, should I say, as well as he can be."

"Thank you." It was all he could say.

The officer, whose name he had discovered was Officer Welch, had at first offered to conduct an investigation. Feliciano denied for multiple reasons, but mainly because, well...Ludwig was a gang leader. Feliciano trusted that Ludwig was experienced enough to not let any words slip, but the Italian was almost always in danger of running his mouth too much.

 _"Where is he?"_

Feliciano jolted as a familiar voice struck his ears. The words were spoken roughly and aggressively, but Feliciano automatically recognized the voice as Ludwig's. He knew that his leader was talking about him, since he was the last person he saw. When Ludwig had passed out, the police hadn't yet arrived, so the German most likely had no clue where he was.

"Sir, you're at the hospital, and we are going to bring you in to treat this wound. Mister Vargas is fine." The voices were definitely coming from the ambulance.

"I didn't ask _how_ he was," Ludwig snarled, "or where _I_ am. I asked _where he was!"_

He couldn't stand the trembling agony that plagued his leader's voice. "I'm right here, Ludwig," Feliciano said, poking his head into the ambulance. The leader's icy eyes instantly seemed to flash and his shoulders slouched in relief.

"Feliciano," he breathed, "you're okay." His voice was hoarse and strained, as if the very action of speaking involved a great effort.

The Italian placed a hand on the shoulder that wasn't injured and rested his head on the top of the leader's. "Of course. You told me to run. You saved my life."

Ludwig's eyes sparkled with the faintest glimmer of hope. "And Kiku?"

Feliciano's smile faltered, and the crack in his heart deepened. Before he could speak, however, one of the paramedics interrupted. "We really have to get moving, sir. In case you haven't noticed, there's a bullet in your shoulder." Feliciano nodded and moved away from Ludwig. The wounded man complied, but the look on his face betrayed the fact that he wasn't very happy about it.

The surgery did not end up taking very long. The wound, although it bled a lot, was not very deep, and the bullet was able to be removed without knocking Ludwig unconscious. The surgeon administered a local anesthetic for his shoulder, but other than that, no drastic measures were taken to remove the bullet and wrap the wound with a thick layer of bandages. The injury was covered by Ludwig's health insurance, and the two of them were out of the hospital in no more than three hours.

Surprisingly, Ludwig wanted to walk back to Feliciano's house. He yearned for nothing more than to stretch his legs after being prodded at for the past few hours, despite the fact that the streets were the reason he was there in the first place. Feliciano, on the other hand, was exhausted, and had no intention of trekking the three miles home. So, Ludwig flagged down a taxi and bundled the two of them inside of the car. The Italian nestled into Ludwig's jacket and buried his face into the fabric of his sleeve, relishing in the warmth that the taller man provided him with. Ludwig wrapped an arm around Feliciano's waist and leaned his cheek against the other's russet hair, allowing his eyes to droop closed as he gave the address to the taxi driver. Ludwig wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep, but he could tell by his companion's stillness and soft breathing that he had fallen unconscious to the gentle swaying of the vehicle.

As they approached the apartment, Ludwig bent down and nuzzled Feliciano's forehead with his nose. "Hey," he whispered, his breath ruffling his hair. "Wake up, Feli. We're here." The Italian's eyes fluttered open, and he grinned up at the man in front of him before yawning loudly.

Ludwig handed the taxi driver their fare and let Feliciano hold onto his hand as they stepped out of the car. The Italian had a much tighter grip than Ludwig ever could have imagined, but he curled his fingers around Feliciano's own as a gesture of reassurance. As the taxi cab sped away, Ludwig led the two of them to the back of the café, knowing that Feliciano wouldn't want to have the trouble of unlocking and locking the front of the restaurant. Before he stuck the key into the lock, he turned to his companion, who was almost asleep on his feet.

"Feli." He brought their joined hands to his chest in an attempt to get his attention. "Can you look at me for a second?" The smaller man obeyed, raising his gaze to meet Ludwig's stare. "Where is Kiku? Has he gone home?" As if he remembered something, his expression grew darker. "Is he...in the hospital?"

Feliciano was immediately wide awake. He opened his mouth, willing for _something_ to come out, something that would break the news as gently as possible. He searched his thoughts for a solution, but the only thing that escaped his mouth was a harsh sob. Before he could stop himself, the tears began to flow, and he knew that there was no easy way to say this. It was real now. People _died_ when they became gang members, and he had witnessed one firsthand. A life, gone, just like that.

"Feliciano, what is it?" Ludwig's voice rose to a more urgent tone. "Has something happened to him?"

The Italian began hyperventilating, panic rising in his chest with nowhere to escape. He swallowed deeply and attempted to slow his breathing while Ludwig placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ludwig...you were only hit in the shoulder." The German nodded in understanding. "Kiku wasn't so lucky, he...was hit right in the center of his chest. I think he died instantly, I don't know. Please don't hate me, there was nothing I could have done, I tried to wake him up but he was so cold, please, Ludwig, _please—"_

Ludwig silenced him with a finger to his lips. His eyes were full of nothing but pure grief, and he didn't seem to be angry. "I'm not angry at you, Feli," he whispered. "When I found him, after I heard the gunshot, he was still. I think you're right, I don't think he suffered before he died." Ludwig sighed fervently. "He will be a great loss to us. He was a decent man. No one ever questioned his decisions." Feliciano was in shock. That was a rather unemotional reaction to a death. Ludwig paused for a few moments, then added, "It's my fault, not yours."

"Ludwig, no…"

"Elizabeta is right. I should step down. Wait, no, I shouldn't. There wouldn't be anyone to take my place because my second-in-command is dead." He shook his head rapidly, as if he were trying to shake the horrors of the night's events from his mind. "It's all my fault."

Out of instinct more than anything else, Feliciano reached forward and grabbed ahold of Ludwig's arm, resting a hand on his cold cheek. "It's not. How many times do I have to tell you? You're doing the best you can to lead all of us. No one could have predicted what happened tonight. It was just bad luck."

"Maybe I should be stricter. Maybe I should install real punishments for those who break the gang's code. Maybe I should stop referring to Berwald and I as friends. Maybe I should—"

"Stop talking like that!" snapped Feliciano. "You're the most wonderful leader as you are. I would change nothing about you."

"I've ruined your life," Ludwig groaned. "We've just returned from the hospital after you had to see me shot and Kiku dead. Your brother was a part of _Soldaten,_ and because of that, he has amnesia. How have I _not_ ruined your life?"

Ludwig was unable to continue his tirade, because something soft had covered his mouth. Rather than responding with words, the German realized that Feliciano had gotten on his tippy-toes and had pressed his lips to the other man's, keeping his hands wrapped firmly around the leader's wrists. Ludwig was in complete shock; it was all so sudden, so unexplained, that his inexperienced mind had no clue how to handle the situation.

Feliciano, on the other hand, was completely and utterly horrified as to what he just had the gall to do. All motion of his lips had halted, and he regretted what he had done. It was reassuring that Ludwig hadn't pushed him away at all, but Feliciano knew it was only a matter of time. In order to save himself from the heartbreak that would come with Ludwig's rejection, Feliciano released the other's wrists and pulled away, staring shamefully down at the ground.

Ludwig was silent for a long moment, then asked, "What did you do that for?"

The Italian immediately burst into tears and attempted to justify his actions before Ludwig could do or say anything else. "I'm sorry," he blubbered, his words flowing out as one long sentence, "I didn't mean it, you were just so sad and I wanted to fix it, and it was the only thing I could think to do I'm so sorry please don't hate me I completely understand if you—"

Ludwig cut him off by placing a two warm hands on his cheeks. He wiped the tears away with his thumbs and smiled fondly as Feliciano sniffled softly. "That's not what I meant." Then, he leaned down and kissed the smaller man, his intent much clearer than it was the first time. One of his hands left the Italian's face to wrap around his slim waist, pulling Feliciano against himself as the other settled his arms against Ludwig's chest. It was a gentle, closed-mouth kiss, but it sent shivers down Feliciano's spine regardless. Sure, the back of a café probably wasn't the most romantic spot for a first kiss, but Feliciano could not have cared less at the moment.

When they broke apart, Ludwig brushed some of Feliciano's hair out of his forehead, and leaned forward to nuzzle his chilly nose with his own. Feliciano reached to snake his arms around Ludwig's neck, sighing contentedly.

"Let's go inside," Feliciano whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of the other man's nose. "We can sort out everything in the morning."

For the first time, Feliciano managed to climb into Ludwig's bed without getting scolded or having to ask. In fact, the German seemed to be glad to have someone beside him for the night. As Ludwig removed the shirt that he had worn for the patrol, which seemed like it had occurred centuries ago, Feliciano was finally allowed to see the bandages that were draped over Ludwig's chest. They wrapped tightly around the wound, which was located painfully between his collarbone and his shoulder.

"You sleep on this side tonight," suggested Feliciano, knowing that if he slept in the position he normally did, the wound would be bothering him all night. Ludwig nodded and settled down without complaint. The Italian removed his own shirt as well, and pulled the heavy blankets around himself before resting his head close to Ludwig's. The body heat of the two men soon warmed the space between them, and it made Feliciano's eyelids droop.

Regardless of what had happened during the evening, the current moment was oddly familiar, and the Italian was grateful to have that, at least.


End file.
